


Sweet Child of Mine

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angus is a Taagnus baby, Assumed death of loved ones, Assumed early labour, Bad companion mentions, Best-laid plans turned sour, Biting, Blood and Gore, Breastfeeding, Buckle up this is another weird one, Burn injuries, But nobody knows it for a long time, Butchery instructions, Canon compliant divinities, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Childbirth, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dexterity loss/Dropping things, Dyslexia Mention, Excessive Drinking, Execution, F/M, Fatal birth deformity, Fuck Sazed (The Adventure Zone), Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Imprisonment, In-utero death, Luume'irma mention, M/M, Messy details of early childcare, Miscarriage, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic Attack, Phandalin aftermath, Poisoning, Pregnancy Cravings, Pro-birth policy mention, Removal of Choice, Rough Sex, Self-Blame, Slow recovery, Surprise Twins, Therapy, Tremula, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unwed motherhood, Wanted baby, White Collar Crime, Whump, accidental misgendering, julia lives, minor criminal acts, mobility issues, public urination, snobbery, stolen century taagnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 44,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: How do you pinpoint the exact moment that things went wrong? How do you know the point where things could have changed?For Magnus Burnsides, life changed forever with a travelling show and a beautiful Elf, and a bad case of Arsenic poisoning. But it actually started much, much earlier, with bad decisions in a darkened room. With a desperate choice. With a necessary betrayal. With a Hunger that could never be sated. Magnus just didn't know that at the time.[NGL, there's lots of whump in the early chapters, but there IS a happy ending]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Adventure Zone in general and the Balance Arc in particular belong to the McElroy Bros and their Dad. I just play around with everything they made and come up with self-indulgent horseshit like this.
> 
> AN: Once again, I’m doing an intersex pregnant Taako because reasons[See _Warp and Weft_ for the pseudoscientific horseshit]. Also, we're starting with the rough parts and gradually easing into happier times.

A travelling show had come to Ravensroost. A large Stage Wagon, a smaller Traveller’s caravan, and a supplies cart that could plausibly be another mobile home. One horse and a mule grazed on the commons near the fairgrounds and the crew of two were setting up. Correction, the one roadie was setting up while the talent apparently sacked out in a deck chair.

Magnus couldn’t blame her. She looked about six months pregnant, and really shouldn’t be doing anything very much in her condition. He decided to hang around in case Kalen’s men tried to make trouble. And, because he couldn’t hang around and gawp and be useless, he approached the human ferrying stuff back and forth from the supplies cart.

“Can I help you set up?” he offered. “Your wife looks like she’s beat.”

A strange look. “Okay, first up,  _ he _ is not my anything. I mean, other than my boss. Second, he’s kind of demanding about the set-up, so… just get the shit I tell you to get, okay?”

“Sure. I’m pretty reliable with heavy lifting.”

Sazed - that was the roadie’s name - got Magnus fetching a bunch of stuff. Most of which got hidden in bins under the counters where nobody could see. While the talent - called Taako - continued to nap under the shade of a ridiculously over-decorated wizarding hat.

“I gotta admit,” said Magnus, handing up a bucket of water he’d drawn from the local well. “I thought your boss was a woman. And… um. Expecting.”

“Yeah. We get that a lot. Elves are androgynous to begin with and Taako’s been getting fat. I keep trying to get him to diet, but…” he shrugged. “Fat goes with the cooking biz, I guess.”

Certainly, the portrait on the wagon was of a much slimmer Elf… but Magnus swore he saw Taako’s rounded middle  _ kicking. _ Must be his brain playing tricks on him.

About five minutes before Sazed had finished setting up, Taako stirred from his coma and tottered on four-inch heels to the nearest railing. Where he -discreetly as possible- pissed over the edge into the ocean far below.

Right. Not pregnant. Just fat.

Taako obsessed over washing his hands in a portable basin. Combed and braided his hair. Then levered himself up the steps and adjusted a little stool. And several other things.

“What’re we doin’, Suzu?” he asked.

“Thirty-clove garlic chicken,” Sazed replied.

“That’s a five hour cook,” Taako complained.

“You wanna do one show? Or three?”

Taako made a face. “Ugh. Fine. Thirty clove garlic chicken it is.”

“And watch the fireworks this time.”

Magnus took his seat. A dozen or so lookie-loos had paid for tuppenny seats, and now so did Magnus. Julia was there and watching everything with her usual wary eye. Always one eye open for Kalen’s guards.

Taako was now wearing a tall toque and looking like the very image of a successful chef.

“Hail and well met, beautiful people of Ravensroost. My name is Taako. You know, from Tre-Llew Ddion. And I am here to educate, entertain, and nourish. Just look at me,” he flashed his ample profile. “You can tell I know good food.”

Even though it was slightly cruel, Magnus couldn’t help but laugh. Taako couldn’t help his weight, and making a nasty joke about it first didn’t diminish the nastiness of the joke.

Kalen’s guard laughed the loudest and the longest at it all the same.

“Today, my lovely audience, I’ll be showing you how to make thirty clove garlic chicken--”

“Isn’t that a lot of garlic?” heckled one of the guard. Tailorson.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? No, sweet boy. It’s a long, slow cook, which takes most of the heat out of the dish, but infuses all of the meat with that lovely spicy flavour. And to show you how to do it properly, we have the latest in magical devices for your kitchen and in mine. Miller Labs’ slow cooking crock pot. Is it a miracle? Close! It’s a Miller!”

Taako cast Prestidigitation as he showed off the crock. Sparks fountained from his fingertips and danced longer than they should have on Taako’s shiny countertops.

The crowd oohed and ahed. They were hooked. Nobody would be moving a muscle for five whole hours except the people actually working the show.

And what a show.

If there was a mistake, Taako was adept at covering it up with a goof. Magnus almost didn’t notice that Taako’s magic was almost completely out of his control. Almost. Something was very much up, and Magnus couldn’t figure it out. If only he knew more about Elves than the occasional bit of trivia…

Five hours flew by anyway. Magnus’ attention was riveted by this gorgeous Elf and his spectacular magic. He almost didn’t notice the other guy coming in and messing with the recipe in progress. Magnus only really noticed because he seemed so out of place. He was acting like he was up to no good.

It was weird.

Taako didn’t even notice that he’d been there.

“And now to plate up,” Taako announced. “Who’s hungry?”

Magnus had been drooling for an hour at least. Twenty other hands raised in the air.

“Of course we have to taste it,” said Taako, wafting the scent out into the audience. “And since I’m on a diet, let’s see if Sazed is up for the task. Say-ze-e-ed,” he called. “Come and taste what Taako’s cookin’!”

Nothing. The eager audience tittered at the silence.

“Maybe if we all try,” said Taako. “He’ll come and spare me gaining more weight, eh? All together, now.”

Eager to join the fun, Magnus joined the chorus. “Say-ze-e-ed… Come and taste what Taako’s cookin’!”

Nothing.

“Welp. He mustn’t be hungry.” Taako had arranged little samples in trenchers made of hard bread. “I know I am.” And he supped from his spoon. “Mmmm...HHHKKK!”

Something was wrong.

Taako had tears in his eyes and a stricken expression. “Chicken’s off…” Cough cough cough hyuurrk…

He was throwing up  _ blood. _

“CLERIC!” Magnus hollered.

Taako’s last conscious action was to upset the Miller Labs slow crock pot, sending it and its contents smashing onto the Stage floor.

Julia was already rushing in, snatching up some charcoal and crushing it to powder in her capable fists. Cramming it into the Elf’s carefully-painted mouth.

It was pandemonium. People were running all over the place. The city guard -all Kalen’s hires- were nowhere to be found. Someone ran for water. Someone ran for ipecac. Magnus ran for Cleric Rose. When Magnus carried the Cleric back, slung over one shoulder and her go bag in his other arm, Julia was sticking her fingers down Taako’s throat. The floor of the Stage was a mess of garlic-scented chicken and sauce, black charcoal and bright blood. Stinking garlic-scented vomit was in there, too.

Rose lay hands on the Elf. “Poison,” she said. “I’ll do what I can. Get him out of here. Into the open.”

Julia took the legs. Magnus had his armpits.

It was a scene. The once pristine chef in his white coat and toque was soaked in assorted effluvia. His golden hair was a wreck. His face smeared with blood and charcoal. He was barely breathing.

And his belly was definitely moving on its own.

“What the fuck?” said Magnus. “I saw him piss over the railing.”

“Not a guarantee,” said Rose. “Give him air and let me pray.”

Magnus looked to Julia, who flexed her blacksmith’s muscles and said, “Everybody  _ back off,” _ in a way that could clear a bar on Rowdy Rum Nite.

Gods, he loved that woman.

Magnus was way more amenable. “Come on. Let’s let Cleric Rose do her miracle work. Give ‘em air. Nothing much to see here.”

There was blood pooling around Taako’s pants. Not a fast flow, not a flood, but it was definitely there.

And Sazed was staring at the scene from the relative shelter of the supplies cart.

He looked Magnus in the eye, and fled like a criminal.

“Hold, villain!”

Magnus was faster than he was. Tackling the roadie and pretty much sitting on him until some other citizens could help with the restraints.

He had an empty phial in his apron pocket. The label said it had once held arsenic.

“Did you  _ poison _ your  _ boss?” _ Magnus asked.

Sazed, soon shackled care of Mr Waxmen, was shaking in his shoes. “I just wanted him to miscarry, that’s all. I didn’t know he could get pregnant. I was only having my fun. I was only having my fun…”

* * *

 

_ Six months ago, more or less… _

The Elf was beautiful. Gorgeous. And way out of Sazed’s league. The way Sazed looked, just about every humanoid creature was out of his league and that included any Orcs in the area. And since he was a relatively healthy young man with certain needs and impulses, he had set to seeing to it that he got his fair share of sex by hook or by crook.

And, in his case, a special solution that made a girl agreeable, friendly, forgetful, and suggestible. All it usually took was a couple of drops in her drink and she would be his, at least for the evening.

The problem was that this gloriously ethereally feminine beauty of an Elf was a statistical outlier. She drank like she was drinking go-gurt, and seemingly flirted with every living male in the tavern.

As he slipped the latest dose into her drink (her fifth dose!) he warned her, “You need to be careful with your drinks, miss. There’s some nasty types who’d pass you potions without your knowledge.”

“Sweet of you,” said the Elf. “But I’m not a miss, I’m a mister.”

Fucking what? Sazed said, “Pardon?”

“I’m a dude, my dude.” A winning smile. “I get it. Elves are super androgynous to begin with. I, in particular, was blessed with this glorious face. I get mistaken for a girl a lot. It happens.” And he sank the adulterated drink in one gulp. “You look lonely,” he observed. “I happen to be lonely, too. Wanna go somewhere and be lonely together?”

The white knight routine had backfired. “I think you’ve had too many,” he said. “You got somewhere safe you want to go?”

Drunken giggling with a side of lust. Just what Sazed didn’t want from a fellow male. “I know just the place. Help me up, handsome? I think my legs don’ wanna work any more.”

Handsome? Even drugged to their eyeballs, none of his previous encounters had called him handsome. “You… think I’m handsome?”

“Sure,” breezed the Elf. “You got this… soft luxurious look about you. Makes me wanna snuggle up and tuck myself in y’know?” A snort. “Gods, I’m so gay.”

Oh. Oh shit. Maybe the stuff was working. Maybe it hit Elves a different way to the way it got Humans nice and pliable. Sazed said, “Now I  _ know _ you’ve had a few too many,” as he helped the Elf upright.

“Gay and drunk off my shapely ass,” he agreed. Smiling. “You got yourself a good grip. I like that in a man.”

Oh fucking hell. Sazed actually felt complimented. And still horny. He started wanting to punish this Elf for making him feel this way, the same way he punished the local girls for telling him to fuck off.

At least he knew where the wagons were.

There was no latch on the Traveller’s caravan in the campground, and the famous Taako from wherever he said he was from was three quarters out of his brain by the time Sazed poured him into his bunk. Perfect. Just what he was used to.

He propped the Elf up, making sure he could still breathe even with his ass in the air. He’d never fucked anyone’s asshole before, but the thought of making someone like  _ him _ regret his life choices was enough to keep Sazed hard.

_ It’s just like a secret cove, _ he told himself.  _ Just smellier. _

He pulled the pants down. And the silk underwear. And discovered a nice little secret.

Did  _ all _ Elves have both a cock  _ and _ a secret cove?

Sazed suddenly didn’t care. He could have his fun like he expected and not have to wash, afterwards. He’d heard that Elves had little fingers up in there and a curious finger proved the rumours right.

It felt so very nice. He could see why guys got point-ear fever. He fucked that Elf so hard he came four times in a row before he was spent.

After that, it was just a matter of pulling the clothes back on and rolling him over so he’d think he’d just been sleeping.

And since he was spent, and didn’t feel like sneaking into someone’s loft again, he took up the opposite bunk. Maybe he could stay with the Elf and have some fun  _ every _ night. The thought was nice.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sazed had been caught for running like a guilty person, and the Guard had taken great delight in shoving him into a hanging cell.

Magnus took great delight in stomping across Sazed’s ceiling on his way from the Hammer and Tongs to the Dew Drop where Taako had yet to wake up from his trials. He and Julia had spent the night gathering every beneficial herb they could find, all of which were now in the basket he was taking to the Dew Drop.

Where the common room had been converted into a hospital with one patient. The Dew Drop boasted the second-best fireplace in all of Ravensroost, and when it was lit, the fires could warm the entire inn. What they were warming now was one unconscious Elf who was still breathing, thanks to the efforts of Cleric Rose.

Taako was on a mattress by the fire. Well out of range from any spitting embers. His clothing had been stripped from him and changed for a simple nightshirt and braies. His polished, heeled boots were clean once more, but resting beside some clean clothing taken from the caravan. Alongside the extravagant wizarding hat.

Magnus nearly missed it, what with the compress on Taako’s brow, but all his lovely golden hair was shorn close to his scalp.

Tables near Taako’s bed were overflowing with herbs, herbal simples, and home remedies.

Magnus blushed. “Guess you don’t need these,” he said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Cleric Rose was tying up bundles of herbs as she recited her cantrips. She finished her latest entreaty to her divinity and sighed. “I’ve done my best, but it’s still touch and go. And I will  _ always _ need herbs for my cures, thank you.” She put her latest bundle down and inspected Magnus’ haul. “These may not help Taako, but they will help  _ someone _ in the fullness of time.”

There were small bundles of golden hair. Braided and tied into loops. A protection charm for some. A spell ingredient for others. “Did you cut all his hair to make those? Seems a little… mercenary…”

“His hair was falling out from the poison,” said Rose. “This was a more merciful solution. And if it can be used for good, then I will press it to fill that need. And before you ask, no. I am most definitely not using it or selling it for Dark Magic purposes.”

Magnus believed her, but he also knew that any Elven body part could easily be used for Dark Magic. “Dunno how lucky his hair would be,” he allowed. “He got poisoned.” His gaze drifted towards the swell of Taako’s middle. Watching for movement.

“As I said, I did what I could, but… I think one of his babies died.”

“One of?” Magnus echoed.

“He  _ was _ having twins. Now? There’s only one heartbeat. The weaker of the two must have failed their saving throws.”

Which meant that, on a technicality, Sazed was now guilty of murder. Kalen’s laws enforced that every conception resulted in a birth. Sometimes brutally so. But they didn’t enforce that a child born was fed, sheltered, clothed, or educated. That, he insisted, was not his problem.

The orphan’s workhouse had never been in fuller swing.

Taako’s belly shifted. One baby still lived. And whether Taako wanted it or not, there would be a home for it. Julia had talked it over with him while they were herb gathering. They would protect Taako and his baby. Or just his baby.

It was one way to rebel against Kalen’s oppressive rule. One among many subtle ways that the metaphorical porridge pot of Ravensroost was close to boiling over.

Sooner or later, something was bound to break loose.

This was just one link in a chain reaction.

* * *

 

This is the Elf that Ravensroost has come to care for.

These are the guards that seized the Elf that Ravensroost came to care for.

This is the Governor, shiny and fat, who sent the guards who seized the Elf that Ravensroost came to care for.

These are the experts in fancy hats, who paid the Governor, shiny and fat, who sent the guards who seized the Elf that Ravensroost came to care for.

This is the fighter, new and green, who punched the guards and made a scene in front of the experts in fancy hats, who paid the Governor, shiny and fat, who sent the guards who seized the Elf that Ravensroost came to care for.

It’s all a war, now.

* * *

 

Kalen had waited for Taako to be conscious before he hanged Sazed. He did not wait before allowing learned experts who had a lot of gold access to Taako’s pregnant and poisoned body. In some ways, he had the best of available care. But in others… none of them  _ cared. _

They tended to view Taako as if solving a problem. Not as if they wanted him to live. They wrote papers about the pregnancy and the discoveries they made without a care for whether or not Taako wanted those discoveries out in the open.

In a way, it was a mercy that he wasn’t awake for that part.

When he did wake, he wasn’t allowed to get up. He was kept tractable with a mixture very similar to Sazed’s ‘love potion’, and pushed everywhere in a basket chair.

He heard Sazed’s testimony, and the warped way that this young man honestly believed that he had done nothing wrong. He heard of how he had been drugged and raped every night since Mudwater Hollow. How Sazed didn’t want Taako to be pregnant. Not because it was evidence of his guilt, but because a baby would  _ ruin his fun. _

That’s all it was to him. Fun.

He saw it as harmless.

He saw it as his due.

Taako watched him hang with a sick feeling in his gut. How could someone be that warped and still choose to go about their day the way he did?

And then the experts wheeled him away into a gilded cage.

The best beds that Faerun had to offer. The best sheets. The best nightwear. The second-best food, because they would not allow Taako to cook. The best minstrels and bards that Kalen could find. The best Clerics and nurses to be certain that the pregnancy would continue. Even if it cost Taako some of his overall health.

And endless streams of experts. People with serious expressions and fancy hats that declared to the world that they were Learned. Poking and prodding and moving him around like he was a side of meat. Taking his blood and anything else that could come out of his body.

He had no choice. It was taken from him. He could only walk under supervision. He could only eat what they served him. He could only bathe how they bathed him. He could only wear what they provided. He couldn’t even go to the privy in private. There was always someone. Watching. Supervising. Sampling.

There were times when he had had enough of people groping him, but they simply put him under compulsions or fed him potions that kept him… supple… to others’ wills.

Even the guards’ wills. The guards who were supposed to watch him during the night, but instead helped themselves to the same prize Sazed had helped himself to, night after night, for six months. The only difference between then and now was that Sazed made certain Taako wasn’t aware of it.

The guards didn’t care about that.

_ Can’t get double pregnant, _ he reminded himself. When he could focus enough to think. If the experts noticed, probing him with cold and uncomfortable metal instruments, they didn’t say anything. Not to Kalen. Not to the guards. Not to anyone.

Which was why it was such a surprise when the revolution happened.

Taako didn’t know about it until the one, big door burst into splinters with a crowd of maybe five townspeople on the other side of it. One big lug with sideburns in the lead. They slew the guards, threatened the nurses, and the big lug hung up his axe to scoop Taako out of his basket chair with surprising tenderness.

Taako wanted to ask, “What the fuck is going on?” but thanks to the latest potion, all he could manage was, “Wh’zzit?”

“They’re not going to hurt you any more,” said the lug. “Nobody’s going to hurt you any more.”

It would come out later, when he was sober, and could speak in complete sentences, and comprehend what people were saying for minutes at a time. One of the guards had, in front of everyone in the Dew Drop, openly asked some visiting experts if they’d “enjoyed a poke at the Elf, too.” And then proceeded to explain, crudely and at length, that he enjoyed the pleasures of Taako’s flesh on a nightly basis. At which point Magnus, there gathering cider for Steven Waxmen, had proceeded to break the guards’ jaw.

The revolution began with that right hook. After that, the revolt was unstoppable. A thousand or more citizens had a thousand or more grievances that Kalen wouldn’t agree to entertain. A thousand families all had reasons to see their corrupt governor and his creatures dead in the gutter.

And they had just won.

But there and then, cradled in the friendly lug’s arms, Taako began to purr. Because this man smelled like a friend.

* * *

 

Taako woke in a pleasant haze. This new place was comfortable, but not top-of-the-market comfortable. The blanket keeping him warm was hand-knitted, and the fire didn’t smell of expensive spices.

_ And something was rhythmically smacking him in the belly… _

Taako moved to brush it away, but found nothing there.

_ It was inside him. _

He opened his eyes. Rustic interior. Everything handmade with care and attention to detail. Small room. Low enough ceiling. And a lug in a nearby chair. “It’s okay,” said the lug. “I’m Magnus. Do you remember me?”

His world had been fog for a time that he had lost track of. “You’re… you helped Saze--” Something had happened to Sazed. “Where’s Sazed?”

“They executed him,” said Magnus. “For rape. For attempted murder. For… for attempting to end… a pregnancy.”

Taako found the strength to lift the blanket. Look down. He wasn’t fat and the something slapping his insides around was a freaking  _ baby. _ And… and he was a lot bigger than he remembered being.

“I’m having a fucking baby?”

“You were under Kalen’s control for two months,” said Magnus. “He and his men fought to the death to stop us from freeing you. I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t want to keep it… Jul-- my wi-- we’d be willing to adopt it when it’s born.”

_ I’m having a baby. Me. A baby. A baby is in me. My baby. _ He rubbed his middle and felt the kicks. “Fuck you, this is the only family I got.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “That’s… that’s good. The good news is that eight months are over. You only got one left.”

“Uh. That’s humans, my dude. Elves take a year. Ch’boy’s got four months on the countdown.”

Magnus winced. “Oof. That’s gotta suck.”

“Yeah. It’s…” his brain capered around and shouted,  _ Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant, I’m pregnant. I’m so pregnant. And I’ve been pregnant since… oh fuck me… since Sazed fucking signed up! That fucking fucker fucking signed on just to fuck me! _ He suddenly didn’t feel so horrible about Sazed being dead. “It’s not a bowl of peaches.” He moved to get up, and felt his limbs not respond as well as they should. “What the--?”

Magnus helped him sit up, swooped him about with a bed coat. “Arsenic side-effects,” he said. “Your muscles and nerves aren’t up to snuff and any attempt on running Restore just gets soaked up by the baby. You’ll have to put up with slow recovery mode while you finish growing your little one.” He twiddled with his meaty hands. “Sorry.”

“Why you gotta keep apologising my dude? None of this is your fault.”

“It took me weeks to realise what Kalen’s goons were doing to you,” he mumbled. “Sure feels like it’s my fault.”

“Dude. Did  _ you _ get me pregnant?”

Magnus straightened up a little. “Um… no?”

“Did you slip me roofies so you could continue enjoying what wasn’t yours to take?”

“Oh fuck no,” said Magnus. “That’s just gross.”

“Did you poison me?”

“No! Taako, what the fuck?”

“And finally, were you the one who had me imprisoned and on a fuckload of drugs for two months?”

“Er. Definitely not.”

“Then it’s not your fault, homie. All those things were someone else’s sins.”

“But… I still failed to notice. It still took me ages to get you outta there. And… so many people died.”

Taako considered his saviour. The old “I could have done more” guilt. “So you failed a couple of perception checks. That’s… not the greatest, I admit. And the people who died… were they all the bad guys?”

Magnus was very still. Taako gained the impression that this was not his normal state of being. “Most of them.” And the rest were people he knew and cared about. Ouch.

Taako had to wonder what that was like. He’d never really had anyone he could rely on since he was a kid. He had no stability for an enormous portion of his long, long life. And relatively speaking, he was still a fresh-faced kid.

And unmarried.

And pregnant with a rape baby.

And without a career. Or money. Or a home.

And people had died because of him.

People this kind lug knew.

Taako finally dredged up some kind words. “Hey,” he said. “You did everything you could. There’s no way you could have done any better.” He shared a soulful look for as long as he could manage. “Now can you please help me up? I really need to piss.”


	3. Chapter 3

They wouldn’t let him wear his signature heels. And after a few shaky steps, he could understand why. He was, to put it bluntly, more than a little frail. The baby, being the little parasite that it was, was sucking up every beneficial spell and cantrip aimed his way. And roughly half of the medicines and potions they gave him.

Treatment and recovery was slow. Physical therapy. Massage. Devotions at the temple. And a menu consisting solely of foods designed to help him and the baby bloom into better health.

And panic attacks.

“IfuckedeverythingupIfuckedmybabyupitsgonnabebornwiththreeheadsorfivehandsornoarms,” Taako wailed. “IdidsomanybadthingsI’mevilIdon’tdeservetobeaparent.”

Rose cast Calm Emotion. Guided Taako through a grounding exercise. Got him back on something resembling an even keel.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I didn’t know I was pregnant for so long. Why didn’t I guess? My magic was all over the place. Misfires. Over-fires. Flare ups. I could have hurt this kid so many ways…” He was still crying even under the influence of Calm Emotion. “I smoked ‘lion, I drank. Fuck. What did that fucker’s roofies do to it? What did that other fucker’s roofies do to it?”

Taako never used names for the people he excised from his life. Sazed had become, “That fucker.” Likewise, Kalen was renamed, “That other fucker.”

“Dandelion’s actually recommended for calming pregnant Elves,” soothed Rose. “It’s harmless. Especially if you keep to smoking the leaves only. Fluff is only slightly more hazardous, but… links are tenuous at best as to whether or not Fluff can harm the baby. If you want to err on the side of caution, go for it.”

“And all the alcohol?”

“Well, that depends on what you drank, how much, and when.”

“Well… never anything strong. Usually cider. The cheap stuff. Two. Three. Maybe five if we had a good night. Didn’t get much in the way of silver to just… lash out and get my party points.”

Cleric Rose snorted. “And you couldn’t taste that the alcohol content of that cider is negligible?”

“Can’t taste any beverage, lady. It’s a curse.” He sighed. “Another damn thing I fucked up.”

“The  _ point _ is that you didn’t drink as much as you thought you did. And the drugs you were administered were almost designed to have no lingering long-term effects. On you, or… anyone in you.” Rose held his trembling hand. He had the shakes so often, now. “Your baby’s okay. And when it’s born, you’ll be okay. It’s going to be fine.”

“I’m still going to donk it all up. I’m gonna make a pig’s ear out of it all… I barely remember my mother. I don’t- there aren’t- I can’t- I wanna do right by this kid. It’s all I have, now. It’s all I have left.”

“Hey. Do you want to do your best for this kid?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Do you want to give it the best life you can?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”

“Are you going to love this child?”

“I’m scared I can’t.”

“Then you’re already way ahead of most people. Many people view babies as a temporary inconvenience until it’s old enough to work.”

“Or… a demon,” said Taako. “I don’t remember my father’s face, but I remember him telling my mother I was a demon.” He pointed to his mismatched eyes. “These used to be incredible bad luck.”

“Oof,” said Cleric Rose. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your damage.”

“Are you feeling better, now? Can I lift the spell?”

“Yeah, I think… I think I’m okay.”

* * *

 

Taako had to use a cane to get around. Between the poisoning, the pregnancy, and the fact that his hips kept shifting positions at random moments, it was something of a minor miracle that he could walk at all.

He did have one request of Magnus.

“Hey, bro. Can you carve me a cane our of Hazelwood? And -uh- set this in it.”

It was a rainbow quartz, already cut to glisten and sparkle.

Magnus, having heard Taako wax lyrical about some of his survival skills, knew  _ why _ Hazel. “You want me to make you a screw-on foot so it suits you when you have your heels on?”

“You know me too well, hombre,” Taako agreed. “Don’t carve any ducks into it, okay? And don’t varnish it until I carve a sigil into the handle.”

“Sure.” Magnus went out looking for the right amount of Hazel wood without so much as a by-your-leave. He wanted to get this done quickly.

Taako already had one hand full with a cane. If he wanted to use his spell focus, he’d have both hands occupied. Bad idea once his baby was born.

And with a little over three months left, he was going to  _ need _ that utility.

So when he started making it, he would make it relatively plain. Almost unassuming. If Taako wanted any added frills, he would kibbitz as he pleased during the process. And besides, elegant simplicity would go with anything. Even Taako’s trash-panda attitude to clothing and fashion.

It took him a while to find the right amount of Hazelwood. And it was a long, slow walk back to Ravensroost because he felt compelled to gather herbs and wild ingredients that were on Taako’s list of approved and healthy foods.

He paused at the wild garlic.

Taako’s last performance had been the thirty-clove garlic chicken. Would he even want to go near garlic again? Would it upset him? Cause flashbacks? He knew Taako had been having nightmares and panic attacks.

He decided to skip the garlic. If Taako wanted it, he could ask and Magnus would be eager to run and fetch some.

When he got back to Ravensroost with his haul, Taako was crying in the kitchen. Magnus put his wood down in the seasoning corner and the wild herbs onto the countertop, and rounded the corner to find out what was up.

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

There was a spill that had partially landed in the sink, oozed down the kitchen cupboard walls, and splashed over a swathe of floor and Taako’s current set of clothes. Taako sat on a kitchen chair and sobbed while his usual cane sat at an awkward angle on the floor. It, too, was spattered with spill.

The hob was still burning so Magnus shut it off and checked Taako for injuries. He didn’t seem to be hurt. Just upset.

“You okay, buddy?”

“...dropped it,” Taako squeaked. “I was gonna just add a splash of water from th’ pump ‘n’ I dropped it…” He held out his hands, which were shaking violently. Tears flooded down his face. “That fuckhead… I can’t cook any more… He ruined my whole life, Mango.”

Magnus could easily wish that Sazed was alive again. If only so that he could beat that idiot to a pulp. He took Taako’s hands in his own. Soothed the tears from Taako’s face. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll clean up the mess, and then… we can start over. I’ll be your hands and you be the genius. It’ll be slow… and probably frustrating… but it’ll get done, right? And you’ll have your -uh-” he couldn’t figure it out. “What were you cooking?”

“Mushroom and cave slug risotto.”

Pregnancy cravings had to be whack. “Okay,” he allowed. “Uh. Was that all the cave slug?”

“Nah, homie, I got another side in the cold box.”

Right. Magnus cleaned up, letting Taako talk him through the prep and the tools he’d need. Working on the stage had taught him quickly to wash and store as he went. And Magnus’ naturally concerned soul was soothed when Taako revealed that he had hired local kids to hunt the cave slug and gather the mushrooms for him. Magnus did  _ not _ like the mental imagery of heavily pregnant Taako wandering through some random cave in the mountainside, armed only with a cane, randomly reconfiguring hip bones, and wibbly wobbly limbs.

Fortunately, Taako hadn’t liked that mental picture either and had decided to remain out of it. He was good out here.

It took him half an hour to both clean up and set up.

“Okay. Let’s start by gilding the onions and the rice,” began Taako.

Magnus didn’t even know what that  _ was. _ “What?”

“Okay. Dice the onion?”

Magnus put an onion on the chopping board and picked up a big knife.

“Peel it first, homie.” Taako sighed. “This is gonna be a baby steps thing, isn’t it?”

“Yup. I’m your baby. Goo goo ga ga.”

Taako was not amused.

* * *

 

“Skin side down,” Taako instructed. “Slide the knife in just like you’re removing the fat off of a pig skin so you can make crackling.”

“Oh,  _ that _ kind of parallel,” cooed Magnus.

Knowing that the Waxmen house kitchen only had room for two people -or, as Taako called it, a two-ass kitchen- Julia peeked around the doorway.

Big, burly Magnus was learning how to cook. Taako hovering nearby and echoing Magnus’ motions with one trembling hand.

“Pretty good, there. We want that flesh, not the skin.”

“Have you tried making Slug Crackling?”

“You’d have to salt it, genius. You know what happens to slug flesh when you salt it?”

“Oooh. Yeah. Bad idea.”

“However, you can rub it with rosemary and white truffle oil and dehydrate it to get an interesting crunchy garnish to a roasted slug head.”

Magnus giggled.

“Watch your hands,” Taako warned.

“How do you know this stuff?” Magnus asked. He looked real cute in an apron.

“Toured the Underdark on the way here. A good chef is always willing to learn new things.”

Julia watched as her ham-handed husband laboriously worked through preparing a meal to Taako’s standards. She loved that man more than her life, but he usually couldn’t cook for shit. This was a man who could ruin  _ scrambled eggs. _ Without knowing how or why.

Perhaps the trick was to not leave him to cook unsupervised. From what Julia could see, Magnus was doing pretty well.

“Bite size cubes, there, Magnuts. Not gobbets. Cut that into eighths.”

“Into what now?”

Sigh. “You got a cube, there, but we need to turn it into smaller cubes. Cut in in half. Good. Now turn it ninety degrees and cut it all in half again. Right. Now the last side we haven’t cut in half? Get that one. There ya go. Eight pieces in three slices.”

“How does that even work?” said Magnus.

Taako only shrugged. “Come on. Let’s get the rest of this diced like that before I have to pee again.”

“That doesn’t leave a lot of time,” Magnus joked.

Once again, Julia entertained the idea of inviting Taako to join them as part of their family. They could protect him, and take the childcare in shifts. But Taako would not always need protecting. He would get stronger. And so would his baby.

And once that happened… Julia feared he wouldn’t need anyone.

She took a breath and sighed it out. They had four months left to consider this. Four months and however long it took them both to recover after the birth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains deliberate time confusion. The time markers on some segments refer to an origin point in the previous chapter.
> 
> For those of you who don't get that, let T == eight months into life with being voidfished
> 
> The time references in this chapter are T-Time Period Mentioned. Got it? I hope so.
> 
> Also, this chapter contains a section about giving birth and some non-Xtian miracles. If this bothers you, the next chapter is tomorrow.

_ Ten months ago… _

Magnus loved this part. That expression. It meant he’d done it right. And there was so little that a young man of eighteen got right. Even after being eighteen for a hundred years.

Currently, Taako’s expression was so unique that Magnus had given it a name:  _ High On Dick. _

And it only ever happened when he got in there just right.

And now he had to focus on something gross so he didn’t cum too soon and spoil things for Taako. Those little grippers he had up in there were hard to ignore.

Merle naked. Euw. Merle shaking his naked ass so everyone could see his funky tattoo. GAH. Merle naked, shaking his ass for a bunch of vines and -- whoop! There we go. Gross enough to cool things down for Magnus. Huzzah.

Great. Which meant things were good for stage two. The actual fucking.

Taako rode him like a hyperactive pony. His calm high quickly overridden by the simple fact that got them started on this in the first place: Lup was projecting,  _ and _ she was deep in the middle of screwing Barry.

Which meant that it was either satisfy Taako real quick or risk getting Elf bites that originated in Taako’s own frustration. Good thing he’d had a century to learn how to do this.

One hand around Taako’s erect cock. Stroking it to match Taako’s frenetic rhythm.

One finger wet in Magnus’ own mouth before carefully working its way up Taako’s ass…

Magnus winced as Taako screamed in joy, in unison with his twin, cumming hard over the two of them.

Magnus wiped one hand on the ready towel so he could support Taako’s body as he shook with the throes of ecstasy. As what felt like billions of tiny fingers flexed and stroked his cock. He couldn’t hold it off. He came.

When Magnus came back to himself, Taako was leaning against his shoulder, and his own cock was back at attention.

“You good, now, buddy?”

Taako panted out, “Crush me, i’morko. Be wild.”

Magnus faked a roar and flipped Taako around so that the Elven wizard was under him.  _ Now _ he could let go.  _ Now _ he could rut and thrust with abandon.  _ Now _ he could focus solely on his own raw lust.

Elves were fucking  _ amazing _ to fuck. Barry was one lucky asshole to get to make love to Lup regularly. Magnus only got the privilege of doing Taako whenever Lup was ‘transmitting’ - sharing her sensations unwitting and unwilling with Taako.

Magnus came four more times before he was spent. Taako came thrice more.

“Good?” Magnus panted when they were done.

“Fucking amazing fucking, homie.”

Magnus rolled over, letting Taako stay or go as he wished. This time, he wished to sprawl across Magnus’ naked body. Gasping for breath.

Spent and happy.

Magnus knew that Lup liked to get off when she was definitely clear from going through Luume. Like many people, she assumed that Luume’irma was the only time that Elves were fertile.

Many people were wrong.

* * *

 

_ Eight months ago… _

Lup swallowed bile as she followed Cyrus Rockseeker. Damnit. Every morning, this illness swept over her. She nibbled bland Lembas, the only thing she could keep down, and sighed with relief as they drew closer to the vault.

Almost there.

She was so close to locking away the curse she’d unleashed on this innocent world.

Just a little further.

She trusted Cyrus about as far as she could comfortably spit a rat, and kept him in her field of vision at all times. Even when she had to stop and retch into a random corner.

One more day. Maybe less.

She had the gauntlet, her Umbrastaff, and a hope that Cyrus would realise that he needed her wizardry to survive the trip back to the surface.

He struck while she was retching. After he opened the vault.

Lup struck back, knocking him inside. She got as far as closing and locking the vault forever before a different sickness hit.

Silverpoint.

Fuck.

This was going to crimp her style until she found a better cure for being dead.

Barry would forgive her.

She hoped Taako would forgive her.

He was always at his pissiest when he couldn’t hold her.

Lup was dimly aware that the Dwarf and the gauntlet detonated in the vault. Well. He didn’t suffer.

And soon, suffering would be beyond her reach.

A sharp pang in her abdomen and the feel of blood passing between her legs made her react in horror.

Oh fuck.

She had had no realisation that she’d been pregnant.

_ And neither would Taako for eight months… _

Her last words were unheard by any intelligent creature. “I’m sorry, little one…”

And then she died.

She could feel the barest threads of a soul flee to the Astral plane as her lich form coalesced above her body.

_ So sorry. I would have loved you, I swear. _

Focus. A life with her brother. A love with Barry. All the good times. All the wonderful moments. The best days ever. From her family and friends.

The arcane energy that made her spiritual form began to gather.

Her Umbrastaff began to twitch.

Lup had just enough time to regret not telling her family where she was going when she left the Starblaster.

The Umbrastaff dragged her inside.

_ This is going to suck, _ she thought.

How very, very right she was.

* * *

 

Taako was looking like he was ready to explode. And worse, he was puffing and blowing with every move. His temper was short. His movement was halved at the best of times. And, for the last two weeks, he’d been suffering practice contractions.

In Mudwater Hollow, it would have been a couple of months after midsummer. Here in Ravensroost, it was just edging out of the middle of winter.

“Oh no you’re not,” said Julia, catching Taako in the middle of putting on his ice boots. Huge, clunky things with chains and spikes on the soles to prevent slips and falls.

“We agreed,” panted Taako. “Long as I can… put my own shoes on. I can go out.” He smirked as he made the clever gripper device clack in the air before using it to retrieve the other boot. “This is me. Puttin’ my boots on.” He winced. “All by my fuckin’… self.”

Julia glared at him. “Using Papa’s gadgets is cheating.”

“Didn’t say that… then,” he grunted as he slid his foot into the other boot. “Doesn’t apply now.” He struggled to get upright, even with the aid of the cane. “So you’re coming... with me to make sure... I don’t get ouchies.”

Julia sighed. “Cleric Rose and everyone with an opinion says you need exercise,” she allowed. “Pick and elbow. Let’s get you to the temple.”

Daily devotions were simultaneously an exercise in terror and a pain in the ass, now. A combination of the time it took to get there, the time it took to get back, the time it took to go through them all, and -of course- the terrifying subtle winces, moans, and exhalations of breath that Taako seemed to make every other minute.

It seemed that every intelligent creature race owed its continuation to unplanned pregnancies because nobody would willingly go through this much hell if they knew about it in advance. No wonder so many people thought giving birth to someone’s child was the ultimate expression of love.

Was she willing to do that for Magnus?

Probably.

Give her a few months after Taako’s baby, to get her thinking her own baby might be nice and for her to forget most of the gruesome details about Taako’s troubles.

Such as lumbering along at a snail’s pace with frequent stops to breathe.

Most pregnant people waddled when they were getting close to term. Taako had lost all his grace thanks to his girth and his irregular pains. Therefore he rolled from one leg to the other and, more frequently, using his cane like an extreme senior and moving one support at a time.

It was hard not to be impatient in the biting early Spring weather of Ravensroost. What with the lazy winds and the intermittent sleet and the  _ intense _ desire to be next to a warm fire inside four walls and most definitely not attempting to avoid ice sheets with an increasingly slow Elf on her arm.

Taako stopped again. Grunting. “Not yet, baby… not yet. Hang on. Hang on, for th’... love of th’ gods… hangon…”

That wasn’t just sleet on Taako’s face.

“Are you… okay?”

“Gotta get… to…” puff puff grunt “temple. Gotta hold…” whimper puff “it off.”

Julia opened her mouth to ask what ‘it’ was before realisation hit like an ox. “Oh shit. Oh fuck. Is it baby time?”

“...praying not…” he squeaked. “Temple… please...”

Julia Scooped him up, cane and all, and carried Taako the rest of the way to the temple. Stomping on the ice patches to break them as she went. If Cleric Rose wasn’t at the temple, then Julia would need to fucking  _ run. _

Taako’s baby wasn’t due for another two months.

Step one. Keep him calm.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she soothed with false cheer. “You watch. We’ll get you in the warm of the temple and it’ll turn out to be another false alarm.”

“...feels pretty fuckin’...” pant pant pant pant “...real…”

“I know,” she singsonged. Almost there. “I know. It always does.” Just a little further. “It’s the cold. It always makes pain worse.” Ten more yards. Maybe less.

Taako didn’t say anything, but his next noise was a muffled wail of pain.

“I know. I’m rough on the ice, but I gotta do it, Taako. It’s just a little further.”

It’s amazing how much a being will lie to themselves and others just to avoid confronting a stressful situation. Denial is possibly the most powerful force in the universe. Julia was telling  _ herself _ that this was just another false alarm as hard as she was telling it to Taako.

Everything was going to be fine. Cleric Rose was going to sort it all out. Maybe she’d finally tell Taako it was time to remain in bed rest.

_ And that spreading patch of warmth underneath him was his bladder. Not anything else, please Gods, not anything else. _

And she may have screamed, “ROSE!” as she entered the temple. But that was just so she could be heard. She wasn’t panicking. She was Julia Burnsides nee Waxmen. She never panicked. And the darkness underneath Taako’s rear was most definitely  _ not _ blood. He’d been having bowel issues. That had to be it.

Rose had left a note.

_ Seeing to little Timmy Retter. Back soon. _

She was not panicking. She did not panic.

She wrapped Taako up in a spare blanket Rose kept by the altar and made Taako sip some of the sacramental wine. To help him relax.

“It’s going to be okay. I know exactly where Rose is. I won’t be long. You just stay warm and remember your breathing, okay? It’s going to be fine.”

And with that lie on her lips, she left him. Alone.

* * *

 

Taako did what he was told. He remembered his breathing. He kept so warm that he was sweating.

And the pain wasn’t going away. It was getting stronger. Leaving him less time to breathe between bouts. Lasting longer.

“Anyone?” he called. “Need some…” he cried out in pain, this time. This was the worst pain he had ever felt in his life. “...help me…”

He tried to get up, but could only crawl. And felt a pang of guilt that his ass had left some blood on the altar steps.

“...help me… please someone help me…”

It was the oldest prayer in the world. In any world. Endorsed by flowing blood, the Gods always answered it.

Taako would later swear he was hallucinating, but Oghma took his hand. Istus took his elbow. Pan, for some reason, held his gaze with a friendly smile. They helped him into position.

A sharp voice behind him said, “He is marked as a bounty. Should he die, I must have him.”

Istus said, “Not today. I need him.”

Oghma was still holding his hand. “That’s it. Get everything out of the way.”

Taako wasn’t aware that he’d been stripping until that moment. “It’s too early. It’s too early. It’s coming too early,” he babbled.

“Peace,” said Pan, and took all the panic away with a gentle sweep of his hand. “It’s coming right on time.”

“His name is Angus,” whispered Istus. “He is worth the world.”

Another wave of pain hit and there was a spattering sound and fluid pooling at his toes.

“Here’s what you do,” said Oghma. And Taako suddenly  _ knew. _

Crouch like that. Hold like this. Breathe that way. One. Two. Three. Push. Scream. Gasp. Shake like a little dog in a snowstorm. Breathe. Cry. Curse. One. Two. Three. PUSH!

Hachi Machi, if he ever felt anything weirder than that, it would be a record.

Not done yet. Not yet. Just a little more.

One more big push.

Scream as the largest thing to ever assault his rear comes  _ out _ with an undeniable force behind it. And just breathe now. Deep breaths. We have to turn him.

A tiny voice. A weak wail. The next contraction comes and Taako screams even louder.

And look. There he is. There’s your baby. You can hold him. Let him suckle. You’re doing so well. Just a little bit more to come…

Just a little bit too much.

Taako passed out.


	5. Chapter 5

Magnus found him in the chapel because he’d been worried. He knew this was the one place Taako insisted on going. Every day. Rain or shine. Sleet or snow. Broad daylight or gloom of night. This was where Taako could be found if he was fretting about something. Usually being soothed in one way or another by Cleric Rose.

But she wasn’t there.

Taako was. Lying on the larger of Rose’s camp beds. Passed out and naked underneath the spare blanket. And possibly the world’s smallest half-elf suckling on Taako’s pregnancy-induced breast.

And a lot of blood on the floor between four altars. And a second, tinier bundle.

The other twin had been born dead and, after a morbid peek, Magnus could see why. It was very hard to be alive without legs or internal organs. And what was left was shrivelled and twisted.

Magnus sighed and wrapped it up again. Whispered a small prayer to the Raven Queen, so that she might take this life that never was and give it something better in Her realm. He even moved the tiny body to the Raven Queen’s altar. So that anyone cleaning up would know, and not treat that little lost soul like garbage.

Taako had lost a lot of blood.

Good news, he was still breathing. Better news, so was the kid.

Best news, Julia just burst in with Cleric Rose over her shoulder.

“Is he okay?” Julia demanded, barely remembering to set Cleric Rose down.

“Parent and child doing fine, I guess,” whispered Magnus, and pointed to the mess. “Is that too much blood?”

Julia’s expression said  _ yes. _ Cleric Rose’s said,  _ probably. _

The new baby had smaller ears in proportion to his head than Taako’s. Slightly more rigid, betraying his human side. But they still wiggled like a kitten as he drank.

He was adorable. He was beautiful.

He was so fucking  _ small. _

But he was alive.

That was the important part.

Magnus wasn’t very much into worship, he didn’t have a patron God in the pantheon. He didn’t devote himself to one above the others or, in fact, any of them at all. For the most part, he was content to muddle along without divine intervention, and let the Gods do as they would without any assistance from him.

“Did you do this?” asked Julia. Indicating the rather orderly aftermath of a birth. Clear signs that  _ someone _ had helped Taako, but… hadn’t lingered.

“I just moved the little body,” said Magnus. “I found Taako like this, and the… uh… remains were right there,” he pointed to a spot. “All wrapped up and everything.”

Julia peeked, too. She shared a Look with Magnus. Taako must never know about that twisted twin. One baby, however small and frail and in need of care, would be plenty.

He didn’t need to know about that on top of everything else that had happened.

* * *

 

The Raven Queen had been given another child. Judging by Her seething fury, Kravitz expected a Sacrifice, but this tiny infant at her bone-white breast was clearly a Stillborn. His Queen was still weaving it the rest of its body.

“My Queen… what happened?” he asked.

“I was summoned in the Old Way,” she said. Blood. And a cry for help. “It was one of the Seven Bounties. Giving birth.”

This… didn’t fit. Bounties didn’t usually care about a legacy. They sought immortality by means that the Raven Queen never approved of. Bounties never had children. But then again, the Seven Bounties didn’t fit either. They just… appeared in the books, one day. Spontaneously. With names and histories and astonishingly high death counts, in some cases.

“You had a chance to collect her?” he asked.

“Him,” the Queen corrected. “And no. Istus protects him. And the living brother of this…” Newly-formed legs kicked. It was a girl. The Raven Queen stroked a gnarled and withered arm, returning it to health and wholeness. “New sister of yours.”

Dark skin. Dark eyes. Dark curls of hair on her head. Kravitz accepted her into his arms and wrapped her about with swaddling made of night. “Welcome to the family. How do you feel about… Stella? Is that a good name?”

“She is as she should have been,” said the Queen. “I cannot bypass Istus’ protection… but I will not aid the Bounty in any way.”

Kravitz held his new sister close, rocking her gently. “And of the other child?”

The Queen sighed. It was true that She loved children, and wrought horrible vengeance on those who would harm them in her name. “The other child is innocent. He does not bear the sins of his… parent. If you can, be sure to protect the child named Angus Taakoson.”

Kravitz bowed. He would show Stella around as he did his Queen’s bidding. “I’ll put the word out.”

* * *

 

Taako woke with a start at the sensation of someone easing his baby out of his arms. He snarled, “Mine!” before he was fully conscious and aware that he was growling at Cleric Rose.

“We’re about to clean him and dress him,” she soothed.

“He’s mine,” Taako protested. Woof. Startling up like that had filled his world with spots. “Don’t steal him, he’s mine…”

They had a basin with gently steaming water. Cloths and clothes nearby. Cleric Rose was careful with him. And he mewled pathetically as they took him away.

“He’s all yours,” said Magnus, doing the heavy lifting again by propping Taako up. “Does he have a name?”

Was it a fever dream? Some kind of mental escape valve? Or had he just been seeing things on top of whatever the reality was? “...she said his name was Angus,” Taako mumbled. He was hazy on things and light-headed. “There was a lady… and a man… and a… goat? Man? Someone else I didn’t see… But the lady said his name is Angus. I remember that bit.” Taako took a few breaths to chase the spots away. “Angus Taakoson. Welcome.”

Magnus echoed, “Angus.” And then had to laugh. “Y’know, Angus was my grandad’s name, and I always wanted to name my first son after him. Small world, I guess.”

Angus didn’t like the warm water, no matter how gently they daubed at him with it. He didn’t like being diapered, nor dressed, nor wrapped up in swaddling. His cries were wan and weak.

_ Breathe, little one. Live. Please. Grow strong. Grow bigger. Just… don’t leave so soon. _

Magnus had a big bowl of something that was a rich, dark brown and smelled heavily of healing herbs. “Tongue, kidney, and liver soup with all the trimmings. You need iron, buddy. Eat up.”

His hand shook when he lifted a spoonful, and Magnus helped steady him, but let him set the pace. Using a spoon was technically eating, so he got the flavour of it.

It was not what he would normally expect out of such a soup. It was rich and flavourful and exactly what he needed. And when he was done, they handed him his baby back.

The smallest baby to ever come out of a Medium-sized creature. He calmed right down once he was back in Taako’s arms. And scowled at him as he opened his eyes.

“I know,” Taako cooed. “Everything you’re going through is literally the worst thing to happen in your entire life.” His hand shook as he caressed that tiny little face. “I’m gonna try my hardest not to mess this up on you. No matter how you’re started, you’re welcomed in love.”

And Angus was sound asleep.

Understandable.

He had had a rough day. And so had Taako, who was starting to sag, empty bowl on his lap. He just needed to rest his eyes…

And he was propped up on a structure of pillows, and a foul smell was assaulting Taako’s nostrils. Angus was whimpering. Complaining. And Taako became gradually aware of a seeping moisture.

Oh. Right. Babies did that. They soiled themselves and then complained about it. Taako managed a stuttering purr because his lower half still felt like it had been wrung dry by a giant. Looked around for supplies.

There was a bell. And a note.

_ Do not try to get up, you’re still in bad shape. We will help. _

Taako was already inclined to stay in the pocket of warmth this bed loaned him. Hell, he didn’t even want to move his hand out of the warmth he shared with his son.

For the first time in a year, his magic worked. His mage hand was properly sized and properly shaped, and obeyed his will to lift and sound the bell.

Someone came running. Taako dimly remembered that they’d been in the audience during the fateful garlic chicken show. Old for a human. Sixty or seventy. Experienced at parenting.

“Yes, dear?”

“I think he needs changing.” Gods, his voice sounded rough. Must have been all that screaming.

“Of course, dear.” She took Angus and showed Taako how to do this. He’d be doing it for two years, after all. Until Angus knew how to use the privy.

Two years.

It seemed like an eternity at this stage in things. Devoting any spare conscious thought to willing this tiny little boy to live. Fearing at any moment that lungs too small to be plausible might stop. Or that he would wake from sleep to find that Angus had died.

Angus cried as he was changed. A weak growl of complaint. Almost a whine. And so very, very soft.

“He’s so quiet,” worried Taako.

“He’ll get over it,” insisted the Human Elder. “And then you’ll regret ever worrying about it.”

Taako didn’t doubt her out loud. He didn’t argue. The effort seemed all too much at the moment.

* * *

 

It took two weeks before Cleric Rose would let them out of the temple, and even then, townsfolk volunteered their services to carry Taako and Angus to the Hammer and Tongs in a palanquin. Which made it turn into a parade, because everyone had become concerned about parent and child alike.

Angus was probably going to want for nothing, what with townsfolk offering food and remedies for Taako, and tiny little clothes for Angus.

And Taako was painfully aware that his hair was growing back funny, and he wasn’t wearing a single spot of makeup. And he probably looked drained and exhausted, and most of the people couldn’t even see Angus. Just a bundle in Taako’s arms.

And he looked down at his son’s face. And it didn’t matter how ugly he thought he was. It didn’t matter that his presentation wasn’t razor sharp. He had a family.

It was tiny. And delicate. And so, so very precious.

All his life, he had had things taken away from him. Parents. Homes. Care. Love. Even food and shelter. Even safety.

He had come to believe that he deserved no-one and nothing. He had come to believe in no-one and nothing.

And now he had Angus.

The determination to do right by him battled with the mortal dread that he would somehow fuck it all up and be alone again. That somehow, he would fail. And then all would be lost.

“Just live for me, baby,” he whispered to his son. “Keep on breathing. I don’t expect any damn thing else outta ya.”

Angus slumbered on. Oblivious.

When they got to the house portion of the Hammer and Tongs, there was a bed and a crib right by the main fireplace, in the warmest part of the house. Magnus had carved the crib. You could tell by the ducks.

It seemed like everyone in town wanted Angus to live as much as Taako did. A welcome change to the usual way he’d experienced life. But then again, it was difficult in the extreme for anyone to despise a baby the same way they despised an orphaned, vagabond, witch-eyed Elf. One who had -strictly off the top of his dome- lied, cheated, stole, run scams, hustled people for money, and did a lot of things that were not, strictly speaking, legal.

A baby hadn’t had a chance to be that disreputable. Yet.

_ The instant I’m well enough, I gotta get outta here. These nice people should never know how nasty I am. _

His plans for escape were currently curtailed by four-hour feedings and the fact that he could barely make it to the privy and back. And the growing sense of debt that he owed this town.

Maybe… just maybe…

Maybe he could start a new life. Turn over a new leaf. Wean himself off the ‘lion and find his niche here. Settle down. Raise his child.

And then he remembered the Three Year Curse. And the Seven Year Curse. He couldn’t stay. Not longer than another year and maybe ten months. He couldn’t let this nice little town get ruined the way he ruined other places just by calling them ‘home’.

Maybe he could get away with it by not calling this place ‘home’ either.

Maybe.

A sign would be nice. Some clear and unmistakable indication that he was meant to be here. An obvious change in his fortunes.


	6. Chapter 6

Her agents had found Taako. Thank the Gods. The reports came back of him walking with a cane. Then they came back about him having a  _ baby. _ A half-elven baby that definitely shared Taako’s dusky skin tone and vitiligo pattern.

_ Then _ the reports came in that Taako had borne this child himself.

And been poisoned.

By someone who had been… well… taking advantages.

Oh fuck.

She hadn’t known this would happen. She’d intended to give him the life he’d always dreamed of, sharing his gifts with the world and getting all the love he deserved from thousands. Perhaps, even millions.

Now he was running a restaurant in… oh shit.

_ Ravensroost. _

Where she’d dropped off Magnus because it was the exact copy of his hometown, erasing the concept that Magnus was  _ not from around there _ from everyone’s consciousness.

Fisher  _ did _ come in handy for editing people into this world, sometimes. But all the same. She had a frightening sense of vertigo. Did they remember? Did she forget to edit an important fragment of their memories?

She read the report thoroughly. Twice. Taako, Magnus and Merle were all in her growing agency’s files as persons of interest. Gather intelligence, but otherwise avoid interaction. Until further notice.

They apparently didn’t remember. Everyone in Ravensroost was still willing to gossip about the last showing of  _ Sizzle it Up! With Taako _ because it was still the biggest scandal to ever hit the little mountainside town. Magnus did not know who Taako was before the entire… disaster cascade. There was no fellowship there beyond that which they forged after the fact.

She had not, in fact, missed a spot.

She’d just entirely missed the fact that Taako could get pregnant.

Lucretia looked again at the portraits. Babies looked pretty much the same, no matter their parentage, but… She swore…

Baby Angus looked remarkably like Magnus’ own baby pictures.

She shook herself. Of course she knew that Taako and Magnus had a friends-with-benefits arrangement. The whole crew knew. Especially because Taako was loud when he was enjoying someone else. Hell. There were some cycles when fucking was the only way they could  _ feel _ anything.

She couldn’t recall any cycle in which Taako had fallen pregnant before… But then again, Taako wasn’t exactly Mr Shares-a-lot. What he figured was his own business  _ stayed _ his own business. What he wanted to share… he let people know.

Lucretia let the matter drop, inserting Angus’ information into the  _ Persons of Interest _ folio for his connection to Taako.

She was still working on how to best handle the Relics she and her crew had made. She was still trying to make ideal teams to deal with them whilst simultaneously protecting her beloved friends.

She couldn’t let herself get pre-occupied with a problem that may not even exist.

“...sorry, Taako,” she whispered. She hadn’t meant that to happen to him. But what she intended didn’t matter now that it had.

All she could do was keep moving forward.

She had a plan.

She could make it happen.

No matter the cost.

* * *

 

The restaurant was called  _ A Dash of Taako _ and, because Magnus had had a hand in making the sign, included a duck and its duckling. The duck was wearing a wizard hat and the duckling had a fork under its wing.

“Is everything ducks with you?” Taako asked. He still needed the cane, but Angus was no longer weak and fragile. He was holding his head up and looking around at the world while he sucked his thumb.

Magnus shrugged. “I like ducks. They’re cute.”

“Better fuckin’ catch some. Folks are gonna think duck is our speciality.”

“Our?” echoed Magnus. “You know I can’t cook for shit.”

“Me and my restaurant, my dude,” said Taako. “Like the royal ‘we’, restaurants are technically a collective.”

Magnus opened the door, setting off the merry little bell. Ravensroost had done its best, and for a town overflowing with crafters and creators, the best was amazing.

Linen tablecloths. Polished brass fittings. Silverware that, though it wasn’t silver, gleamed nonetheless. Chandeliers made of glass that had far more to prove than crystal. Glowing orbs that seemed to defy gravity, but were cleverly incorporated into the chandeliers. Everywhere was a little dash of sparkle.

The kitchen was a dream come true. All the modern gadgets that Miller Labs could provide. All the best equipment. Pristine without being cold. Enormous storage. Excellent elbow room. Space for up to ten asses at once. Pantry and cold room already stocked.

Taako got a little wet around the eyes. “This is beautiful,” he said. “How could you all afford…?”

“Don’t worry about it,” soothed Magnus. “We’re very good at making cheap shit look expensive.”

Taako shook at the impact of that simple statement. “Good thing I can make cheap food look and taste expensive.”

“Yup,” said Julia, who had forged the wrought iron features of the decor herself. “We’re a good match.”

“And there’s a little flat upstairs,” said Magnus. “In case you want to strike out on your own.”

It was still more than he’d ever expected. He’d needed this and needed that ever since Sazed decided that he needed a way out. It must have cost them a lot.

Taako, way too used to people taking what they thought he owed them, inwardly vowed to at least bring this quiet little artisan town some income.

If he put his own spin on common fare… if he dressed it up with fancy presentation and Restaurant French… if he used every resource he could get his hands on…

He dared not think he might have a chance. Not after thinking that with Sazed.

So he said, “Yeah, sure. I’ll get Ango and I out of your hair.” He didn’t add  _ You’ll be needing the room, soon. _ Humans didn’t like to be told they were expecting before they could see any signs themselves.

They’d find out their own way.

* * *

 

Angus learned to read by watching his Apa write the menu, every morning. He would sit on the counter and watch as Apa drew lines and curves on the big chalkboard and then hang it up for the day. And in a few short hours, the Daytime People would come in. They would all pat Angus on the head and some would have a conversation with him, even though everyone knew he wasn’t that great at saying words yet.

Apa was magic. He could make sparks fly out of his fingers and turn copper into gold once a day. And he turned all kinds of gross stuff into tasty things. Angus loved to ride on Apa’s back with the help of some clever twists of fabric. He could watch Apa work all day.

Apa took breaks for meals, of course. When the Customers ebbed off and the bell stopped ringing so much, it was time for Apa and the Daytime People to grab themselves something to eat.

Angus was still learning how to handle spoons and forks, and always made a mess, but Apa didn’t mind. The magic sparks could make any mess vanish in an instant.

Apa always had good food. Apa always had kisses and kind touches. Apa so very rarely shouted. Apa had a long stick that helped him walk, and sometimes, people to help him when his hands shook a little too hard.

Sometimes, they were so bad, he made messes, too. Apa would make funny little noises and get someone to help, and try again when he wasn’t shaking so much.

One day, Aunty Julia came in with another baby. A baby so much like Angus that he had to jump and squeak. She was a girl and her name was Lucinda. And she was only a little bit smaller than Angus. And she looked a lot like him.

Except she didn’t have teeth and she couldn’t even try to talk.

Apa explained that Lucinda was brand new. Angus had had a whole year to learn to walk and talk and all the other things. And Apa explained that a bad man had hurt both Apa and Angus while Angus was still growing inside Apa. And that was why Angus was so small.

But it was okay. Small or not, he had a lot of love. And that was the important part.

It was the end of the day that was Angus’ favourite part. Sometime in the afternoon, Angus would fall asleep on Apa’s back, only to wake up in the little trundle-bed in the warm corner with Apa and the Daytime People cleaning up after the dinner rush.

Apa would finish up by scooping Angus onto his hip, and climbing the stairs to the little area where they would cuddle and purr and have some finger foods for dinner before sleeping the night. Apa would tell Ango about the day and yawn and purr and, most often, fall asleep with Angus in his arms.

Angus loved Apa. He was a fact of life as real as the moons. As comforting as warm milk. Better than anything in the whole wide world.

* * *

 

There was a very small child manning the till. He wore glasses, and seemed older than his size would indicate. He sat on a supremely tall stool and had to dodge the change drawer as it shot out. And he never missed a copper.

Barry was impressed. He’d been impressed by a lot of things, so far. And this kid was pretty impressive. He had a clear voice and obviously knew Shop Math, and could tell how much money someone gave him at a glance.

“Hey -uh- can you help me out? I dunno what half the stuff on that menu is. Can you tell me?” He leaned closer to murmur, “What the heck is gross limache?”

“That’s Fantasy French, sir,” said the boy. “It’s pronounced like ‘grow lim-ah-ss’.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “It’s a local delicacy. Dire slug.”

Barry laughed. “I can see why you call it  _ gros limace,” _ he said. He knew enough about local delicacies to know that they could be anything from surprisingly tasty to the food equivalent of Stockholm Syndrome. “I’ll take the Seafood Surprise and a large local cider. Thanks.”

The very little boy swivelled on his stool and kicked away from the till as he went. It was then that Barry learned that the stool had wheels.

Clever.

The kid rang a little bell. “Seafood Surprise and a large cider.”   


“Got it,” said a voice inside.

Barry’s heart imploded. At least. That’s what it felt like. This was what the coin warned him about. There was someone out there who would remind him painfully of the love he couldn’t remember. The face would be achingly familiar. The voice would hurt him  _ so _ much. And he would be tempted -very sorely tempted- to sleep with the Elf who ran the busy little restaurant in Ravensroost.

_ Thank the Gods that Taako puts his name on everything he touches, _ the coin had said.  _ His hunger for vainglory is only matched by a loneliness he should never have. You and him? We miss the same person. Don’t ask him if he remembers her. Don’t ask him if he knows anything. And especially… Do. Not. Sleep. With him. You’ll regret it and she will never forgive you. _

Barry believed in that special love. So when the drop-dead gorgeous Elf stepped out with a tray in one hand and using a cane with the other, he forced himself to stay strong.

For whoever that mysterious ‘she’ was.

A love that hurt so much and so thoroughly had to be worth waiting for. Had to be worth this search. Had to be worth his life.

“You look like you lost the love of your life, friend,” said Taako, rearranging his burden onto the counter.

“Trying to find her,” said Barry. “There’s a dungeon in the south lightwell area of the Underdark. I think she might have gone there.”

Taako whistled backwards. A sure sign of something costly.

“Yeah. I’ve been spending most of this year just looking for it.”

“I get it, the Underdark’s a confusing place.”

Barry boggled. This Elf? In the Underdark? It didn’t seem like he’d survive.

“I toured through there when I had a show. Hang on. Angel? You remember the map cube? Can you run up and fetch it from Apa’s stuff?”

“Yessir,” the little boy leaped down and scurried off. In a moment, there was a thundering of little feet headed up. And, a few minutes later, the thundering of little feet coming down. “Here it is, sir.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” Taako dropped a kiss onto his forehead.

It was a little black cube, at least until Taako drew a circle on one surface, and then an illusion burst forth of an ants’ nest labyrinth of tunnels, caverns, mines and oubliettes that wormed their way under Faerun’s mountains. He demonstrated how to pinch and drag the map around via the cube. “The nearest Underdark entrance is here. We usually trade for some of the more interesting mushrooms and… let’s call it ‘exotic meat’.” Dire slug and other edible creatures in the dark, Barry guessed. “If you tell ‘em Taako sent you, you’ll probably get a guide to wherever. And maybe some help finding your lady. Or… what happened to her.”

Barry dug for his money pouch. “This is more help than I expected. How much do I owe you?”

“Naw, take it for free. I’m all in favour of love finding a way, m’man.” He sighed. “Someone should have the chance.”

That one little moment was something Barry would rage about when he died again.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a Dark Elf in the Restaurant. Wearing smoked glasses against the daylight and holding a very amateurishly made hat in her hands as she bounced in a corner by the till. Angus, four years old and helping the three-year-old Lulu Burnsides colour in, had her pegged at maybe seventy if she’d had an easy life. But, judging by her clothing, she was probably somewhere in her mid-fifties. An eager kid, in Elven terms.

That much was proven by her gasp and little whimper of, “Oh my gods,  _ Taako… _ I didn’t expect you to  _ be _ here.”

Apa gave Magnus the packed basket he’d ordered and limped over to the young Drow. “I live upstairs, I’m always here.”

“This is your  _ home? _ Oh wow. I didn’t know. This is so beautiful, I never expected…” she stopped herself. “Um. I’m Ren. I saw your show in the Underdark…”

“Quiche surprise. Row five, seat seven. You were shorter, then.”

Her dark grey skin got darker around the cheeks. “You -um- you kind’a inspired me, that day. I’ve been working hard on learning how to cook andum. I memorised your cookbooks. Uh. Andum. I’dliketogetajobhereplease.”

“So you’re… how old?”

“Uh… hundred aaaannnnddd…. One?”

Apa didn’t really need to glance towards Angus for the head-shake that he was already doing. Lulu, watching this, singsonged, “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” under her breath.

Apa snorted. “Yeah. Can I have that answer again, and hold the horseshit?”

Ren shrivelled. “...’m fifty-seven…”

“Mm-hm. No family?”

“...’es.”

“Fine. You start with the prep. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Start you on Lunch Rush only  _ and _ you wash the dishes. Forty gold a week, take it or leave it. And you manage your own lodgings, but…” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur, “The Burnsides’ have a spare bedroom you can probably stay in until you get on your feet.”

Blink. “What?”

“I was once hungry and alone with one marketable skill that was legal everywhere,” he said. “And a very good chef figured out I was lying about my age but still gave me a job. I’m… paying that favour forward.”

Ren launched forward to hug him, nearly tipping Apa over backwards. “Thank you! Thank you so much! This means more than the whole world to me.”

* * *

 

The three year curse passed them by. Fantastic. Great. Brilliant.

Unfortunately, the  _ seven _ year curse landed like a ton of shit.

_ A Slice of Taako _ was getting noticed. People were coming in from far and wide to taste what Taako and his growing staff had to offer. People started making  _ bookings. _ Which was lovely. Excellent for business.

And even better, his beautiful, brilliant baby boy was a fucking  _ genius _ and was solving crimes from right there in Ravensroost.

And then Taako made a mistake.

As he was taking Angus back to the restaurant for the afternoon, following his schooling, he said, “C’mon kiddo. Let’s get you home out of the rain.”

_ It took him six years to do it, but he said the H-word. And he wasn’t even aware at the time. _

Taako was concentrating harder on keeping his cloak over Angus’ head so that he’d stay dry in the inclement weather. His other hand kept a firm grip on his cane, though he hardly needed its help, any more. He still liked to keep it around for the surprise bad days when he couldn’t quite feel his feet or when his muscles were prone to spasm.

Today was a good day.

It was his last good day for some time.

Two days after he made the mistake of uttering the dreaded H-word, Lucre Goldrich turned up for a lunch appointment he had made on that fateful day. Taako and his staff treated him with the usual flair they expended on any other customer of  _ A Slice of Taako. _

In this case - food: perfect. Attention: lavish. Drinks: served with the usual Taako flair. Also known as probably a little bit too much lustre dust and gold leaf.

Taako didn’t fuss, but Ren was vibrating with anxiety. “Don’cha know who that is?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Taako. “I know I’m the best. If he doesn’t think so, that’s his problem.” He just got on with getting on. Knowing what was happening in his kitchen by apparent telepathy, because his next words were, “Jenny, what do I keep telling you about the onions?”

“Use th’ tool,” Jenny sighed, picking it up. “It’s there fer a reason.”

Taako continued adding the final touches to every dish before it was ready to go out. “Table three, Ren.”

Ren dashed out with the tray for table three, set each order just right. Made her performance worthy of the stage, and zipped back into hiding in the kitchen. “That’s Lucre fucking Goldrich. The biggest and most famous investor in all of Faerun!”

“Never heard of ‘im,” said Taako. “Don’t really care about the finance pages, m’dear. It’s all rich people screwing little people over and patting themselves on the back for how much more gold they have while kids are starving in the streets.”

Ren didn’t get it. “He could sponsor us. He could  _ franchise _ us. Can you imagine?  _ A Slice of Taako _ all over Faerun.  _ You _ could be the rich person in the papers.”

Taako felt it then. Something about to go very wrong. He had learned over time to associate hope with a kick in the teeth and this was no different. He said, “If he does, it won’t be Taako’s any more.”

Ren, still the optimist, couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s going to be great for you. You’re going to get the recognition you deserve. At last. The whole world needs to taste your magic.”

Taako didn’t endorse or deny her hopes. “Table seventeen’s ready to go.”

* * *

 

Lucre Goldrich loved Ravensroost. He loved the view. He especially loved the little restaurant called  _ A Slice of Taako. _ He loved the handmade feel of everything in Ravensroost. He loved the old Governor’s Mansion and bought it as a Summer Getaway.

And then he started to work his special kind of magic on Ravensroost.

He wanted Taako’s culinary skills for himself and his friends, and sold it to the Elf in question as a chance to get his brand out there. What surprised Lucre was the fact that Taako was unimpressed.

“Yeah, I already  _ had _ one business partner who said he wanted to see my face all over the world,” he said. “He tried to kill me. What’s in it for you?”

Lucre went into his spiel. Selling the idea that, for a measly twelve and a half percent off the gross, Taako could have his cuisine in restaurants all over Faerun. His name in lights! His cookbooks on every shelf.

And all Lucre wanted in return was for Taako to listen to his advice. There were, of course, improvements to be made. Little cost-effective tricks that could enhance the profit margins. Tweaks, mind. Nothing big.

Taako nodded and said, “I already understand how Hag Stones happen, hombre. Tell you what.  _ You _ get to name the chain, and when I’m ready to sell  _ A Slice of Taako, _ you buy it for… twenty thousand gold. Cash. On the spot. No renegging. I want that in writing, notarized and registered with the office of records in Neverwinter.”

Hag stones? Lucre was temporarily lost on the logic. “Sounds like a deal, my friend.” He agreed, knowing that he would have made way more than twenty thousand gold out of it by the time he stole Taako’s genius from under his feet.

It would be one of the few times that he would take a deal at a loss, but he didn’t know that at the time.

“Of course, first thing you have to do is train up a whole bunch of chefs to do all your unique dishes. You’ll have to travel, of course, so you and your two darling children--”

“I only have the one,” said Taako.

Lucre looked over to the corner where two nearly identical children were working on their schooling. The boy was teaching the girl about the finer points of phonics. “Aren’t they twins?”

“Ango? Lulu? Come and show the nice man your ears, real quick.”

The kids giggled and ran up, pulling their dark curls away from their faces. Angus had half-elven points. Lulu was fully human.

“Huh,” murmured Lucre. “And I was thinking just you and your son had vitiligo…”

“Still do m’man. And. Another correction. The actual  _ first _ thing I need to do is have that contract and letter of registry from Neverwinter. Not shifting a jot without it.”

For all that he claimed to be horrible at math, Taako was fairly canny at business. Almost as if he’d been running hustles for all of his life.

Lucre shook his hand, thief to thief, and got right on with the paperwork for a change.

* * *

 

Taako had copies made of his contract. One was kept in the Ravensroost City Hall. Another went to the Office of Records in Neverwinter since the official letter of registry hadn’t come with his copy.

And when his copy of the letter came back, it came back with a notification that Lucre Goldrich was now being investigated for registering two different versions of the same contract with two different versions of the client’s signature. Something that took another two months to clear up.

Two months that Taako used to get word around to all the artisans and crafters and residents of Ravensroost.

Don’t settle for less. Demand what your shop is worth. Demand what your home is worth. Make sure any contract  _ you _ sign is sent directly to the Neverwinter Office of Records. Lucre Goldrich is a shark, and we’re all his flock of minnows.

He will lie and tell you that he can’t possibly sell your place for what you want. Tell him you can’t possibly sell your place for what he wants. You have needs and one of those will be getting a new place. If your future without a home isn’t his problem, tell him that it is now. It’s business. Your goal is to make a profit, too.

And never, ever, agree to work for him with just a measly twelve and a half percent off the top.

Ravensroost was already whittling away its population towards more lucrative and less skilled labor in places like Goldcliff, Rockport, and Neverwinter. Now it was being bought out. Section by section.

Taako sold his Stage Wagon ages ago, but kept his traveller’s caravan and burned all of Sazed’s old shit at the first opportunity. With a little sprucing up and some stuff for Ango, it was ready to go.

And before he left, he gave a copy of his contract to Ren. “Read it. Learn it. Know what it means,” he instructed. “You know how I like to do things around here, not him. If all else fails, ask for confirmation by mail. The first confirmation code phrase is, “Angus is doing well.” as a postscript. If the letter doesn’t contain that, it’s not from me. I’ll send others in personal letters as we need ‘em.”

Ren was starting to get it now. They were all in the hands of a gold-class hustler. “I don’t like the new hires. They cut corners all the time.”

“I don’t like ‘em either. But you are in charge, here. You’re the most competent chef I’ve ever met. Own it. Don’t let anyone talk you down because you’re underage.”

* * *

 

Angus loved travelling with Apa. For all that he claimed that travel was mostly boredom and discomfort, they had a wonderful time. He learned so much. How to forage, what things were safe to eat. Apa taught him how to fish, how to make snares, and how to make his own wand if he needed to.

“Dry hazelwood,” he said. “Cut it if you can, but if you snap it off, be careful not to split the stick. Straight is better for aiming, but it’s your mind making the magic. You always control where it goes.”

“Is that why your stick’s made of hazelwood, Apa?”

“Got it in one. This little crystal? I imbued it with a spell. If I need to, I can give myself and one other person extra speed and agility to escape a bad situation. Once a day, of course. All these things are pretty much once a day unless you got some OP magic shit going on.”

“Like the Super Artefacts, Apa?” Angus asked. “The ones that cause trouble now and again?”

Apa didn’t like talking about them, but they turned up in the newspapers, and Angus was wont to read about crime. “Yeah. Those. There’s -what- three of them? Some kind’a rock, a weird belt and an eyepiece?”

“That’s right, Apa.” Angus was kind of proud. Apa didn’t have the best memory about things, sometimes. “The stone hasn’t been seen for a while, though. Maybe someone threw it in Mount Doom.”

Apa giggled at the goof. “We can hope, huh?” He checked his bait. Recast it into the waters. Sighed and said, “I’m wicked sorry about all this, sweetie.”

“Sorry for what, Apa?”

Sigh. “My curse. I can’t just… live in one place. I can’t call anywhere ‘home’. Three years, or seven years. Either way. Something happens and it all goes to shit. We were doing so well and then I called our place ‘home’. Things are gonna go real shit for us real fast, baby.”

“But everything’s looking so good, Apa.”

“Just wait,” he said. “It’s gonna go rotten.”

They had fish for dinner, that night. Three of them caught by Angus and one by his Apa. He was liking this holiday, and couldn’t even think how it could go rotten. He was having the best adventure so far.

But he watched, and paid attention, and saw how it all went sour. All the promised cake of the future nibbled away by metaphorical mice.

First, the people in the new chain called  _ Slice of Perfection _ insisted that they had to use ingredients available everywhere, because the experience had to be the same. Which limited Apa’s innovations and upped the price of the dishes served. Local ingredients would have been cheaper, and the menu more varied from place to place, but the genius of Lucre Goldrich lay in giving everyone the same experience everywhere with the same brand. No matter the availability of the core ingredients or how much it cost to get them there.

Apa, lover of variety and local fare, suffered teaching the franchise chefs how to make the exact same dozen dishes with his usual genius. It took him two towns before he threw himself into local cuisine and products in a frenzy of creation.

And after he and Angus had taken their fill, he gave out samples for free to anyone who was hungry. Angus noted that Apa kept selling  _ A Slice of Perfection _ with genuine recipes from himself. Taako, you know, from TV.

It took Angus a while, but he guessed that Apa was up to something. He hadn’t liked Lucre Goldrich from the get-go, and now Apa was advertising food that Goldrich would never sell.

And further, Apa was scattering copies of his contract everywhere. Especially in temples to Oghma. Contracts that had an early dismissal clause in it that had a higher pay-out for Apa.

Research in the old newspapers confirmed what Apa seemed to know instinctually.

Goldrich had a lot of his contracts vanish without a trace. Or turn out to be different from the copy held by his current victim. Apa had sized Goldrich up as a rogue and a thief and something of a pirate from day one.

And just before they hit Neverwinter, Angus asked him how.

“Twelve and a half percent,” said Apa, “Is one eighth of something. And pirates are famous for loving…?”

“Pieces of eight,” said Angus.

“And a piece of eight is one eighth of a gold dollar. The man is a flat-out pirate who makes certain that his plunder goes unnoticed. ‘S why I don’t want my name on his chain. That, and his creatures are churning out cardboard food. No herbs. No spices. Just salt and pepper on the tables?” he shuddered. “That’s never my style and we all know it.”

Goldrich had the look, though. The glitz and glitter and sparkle of Apa’s style. Just… not the soul of it. Not the flavour.

In fact, there was so little of Apa in the restaurant chain that Angus wondered why he agreed to do this in the first place.

“I got reasons, little man,” Apa said as if reading his mind. “One: it’s the curse. Best to roll with it and get it over with. Two: That man deserves a solid lesson in not being an asshole and I’ve been randomly selected. Three… he thinks he can still get away with it all.  _ Nobody _ hustles a hustler and gets away with it, my love.”

And since the mosquitoes were moving in, they put out the fire and moved inside the caravan, where Apa lit a lamp on a low flame to keep Angus’ imagination from filling in the dark with monsters. “You used to hustle?”

Apa chuckled, recognising the story cue, and pulled Angus onto his lap. “I used to be all sorts of things. My family never had money, and when… when things got real bad… I had to strike out on my own. I could cook, thanks to Aunty Quessadi’ia, so I had one skill. Learned others pretty quick. Your Apa’s got himself some unsavoury history. Eff why eye. Long time gone, now. I can still spot a pirate from a standing start. So there’s that.”

Angus curled up in Apa’s lap. Apa glanced over his past. He didn’t tell a lot of stories about his history. “You never tell me anything about when you were young,” he complained.

“I don’t have a lot of nice stories from then. Apa’s had… a very bad life. Hope snatched away. Good things turned to shit. To be honest, I was alone and scared and without much in the way of a hope until… Whoof. A hundred and three. That’s pretty much when my life of crime fizzled to a slow end.”

“What happened?”

“There was… a competition. Grant. The camp I was in at the time was running a bunch of aptitude tests to try ’n’ give us jobs, and I… I just did all of them. Like. What the hell, right? Next thing I knew, I had a college course at the swankiest university in Faerun. I couldn’t believe it was real.” Apa snuggled him close and added a generous peppering of kisses to Angus’ brow and ears. “You get all the education your little noggin can hold, Ango. It’s worth a fucking fortune and you don’t have to worry about encumbrance.”

Angus didn’t let Apa take him on a derailed journey. “And then what happened?”

“Once I had a hand up to the next level, I took off and never looked back. Cooked. Learned more. Travelled… Somehow managed to start  _ Sizzle it Up! _ And then I had you. And the restaurant. And I wish it wasn’t so, but it’s all going to go down to you and me and starting all over again. I’m sorry, baby.”

“At least you’re not doing it on your own, this time,” sighed Angus.

Apa started to purr, and that made the entire world all right. He slid into an easy meditative state in his Apa’s arms.


	8. Chapter 8

They made it all the way through the tour of Faerun. In every place where Lucas Goldrich planned to have one of the  _ Slice of Perfection _ restaurants. And in a few dirtwater towns on the way to promote the brand.

And leave copies of the contract in every temple, library, and city hall Taako could find.

Angus had helped out the city watch or the local guard whenever he could. Solving more than a few cold cases as well as whatever fresh ones they were having trouble with. Taako secretly glowed with pride. This was his kid. Super genius boy detective. And keeping his Apa on the fair side of the law while he was at it.

The signs for Ravensroost had mile indicators that ticked down into single figures. Taako dared hold a spark of hope that it was just as he’d left it. But that spark died the instant that Ravensroost came into view.

Lucre Goldrich had turned it into a gods-damned  _ theme park. _

The few people he recognised were now dressed in a kind of uniform that was clearly meant to be ‘peasant-y’ without ever once paying any attention at all to what real peasants wore.

Magnus Burnsides was in the blacksmithy, pretending to smith metal when both he and Taako knew that he was absolute shit at the forge.

Lulu was chasing a hoop with a stick and doing so with all the enthusiasm of someone who had had the joy of it drained away by having it be her job.  _ She _ was wearing a fancy skirt and a wig overloaded with ringlets and ribbons.

Julia, owing to her size, was dressed in Barbarian furs and hauling around a prop club as she wandered the streets.

“Taako! Taako, oh my gods!” Ren, thank Oghma, was still in her chef’s outfit as she ran out of  _ A Slice of Taako _ to climb the caravan and hug the stuffing out of him. “You’re back! I missed you so much!”

Her ruckus caught the attention of Julia, Lulu, and Magnus all at the same time, who rushed the caravan and passed Taako and Angus around from hug to hug.

Lulu had lost her ringlet wig in kissing Taako with a very warm welcome.

And somehow in the babble of warm welcomes, Taako gained the impression that they expected him to rescue them from this… swamp.

They were trapped, apparently. Though Ren was more trapped by Goldrich’s pressure to adhere to his business model than anything else. That, and her loyalty to this odd family who had taken her in.

“Hey! Performers aren’t allowed to break character on scene grounds,” said a guard.

Taako emerged from the cluster and identified him as Tailorson. The heckler who ran a lifetime ago (Angus’ lifetime ago, plus a few months, to be precise) and hadn’t wanted to share air with Taako ever since. “Performers?” said Taako. “Last time I checked, these people were  _ citizens. _ Or is everyone who lives here merely playing at their job?”

Tailorson looked like he had been hit square in the chest by a flaming arrow. Shock and awe quickly chased off his face by mortification and guilt. “Uh. Oh.  _ You’re _ back. Um. Okay. You… You all can take an early lunch. I guess. I… won’t… I won’t tell anyone.”

Just what Taako expected from a man aligned with Lawful Coward. “My place,” decided Taako. “What’s on the menu, Ren?”

The menu was part of the problem. Goldrich insisted on  _ Perfection _ recipes being available alongside the local food mainstays, and then complaining that nobody wanted  _ Perfection _ dishes. Somehow, this lead to constant arguments about toning the  _ Slice of Taako _ menu items down to match the  _ Perfection’s _ lower bar.

Ren insisted on getting mail confirmation from Taako. And all the letters that she never wrote got “mysteriously lost in transit.”

He had taught her  _ well. _

The Burnsides had attempted the same trick as Taako, but their copy of the contract - multiple copies, in fact, never made it to the offices in Neverwinter. Goldrich was well capable of arranging mysterious losses in the mail as well. Nothing that could be proven, either.

Steven Waxmen, Julia’s father and kindest soul in Faerun, was forced to act the old beggar for ‘street flavour’, and the winter took him out with the seasonal illness.

Julia blamed Goldrich for that death.

People who had once lived in and loved Ravensroost were bidding out of their contracts when they could and leaving for greener fields. But for the Burnsides… they were stuck.

Taako listened to it all. Already planning.

“I know how to be a pain in his ass. Give me six months and the Fantasy Sears Roebucks order catalogue. When I’m done, he’ll be  _ paying _ us to get lost.”

And with that, he stood with the help of his cane and erased the  _ Perfection _ items from his  _ Slice of Taako _ menu board.

“Starting today,” he added.

* * *

 

Angus could very easily despise Lucre Goldrich, now that he had a taste of what the man did. It didn’t matter that he was earning gold for being ‘street flavour’. As a half-elf, and as a small one at that, Goldrich’s mages coloured him green for business hours, and then dressed him up as a gerblin thief and directed him to be bad at pickpocketing the paying guests and great at pickpocketing the performers.

Apa taught him some of his more  _ interesting _ skills. Told him the things people wouldn’t miss until later, and also told him to follow Goldrich’s directions to turn in wallets and purses to the Lost and Found kiosk.

The contents of the same could easily be lightened by up to five gold without anyone noticing. Funds that went into a concealed jar in the Traveller’s Caravan.

Or, for instance, into the tip jar at  _ A Slice of Taako. _

Angus was improving his stealth stats, sneaking some ill-got gains into that jar. Let alone obtaining them. Sure, he was learning a lot about thievery, but there was still the element of pretend about it all. He couldn’t help feeling that, were he relying on these skills to live, he’d be caught and executed before a week was out.

As it was, he was ‘captured’ by players pretending to be the City Watch and put in stocks every other hour. For the entertainment and cheers of the wealthy patrons. And their laughter ten minutes later when he “picked the lock” and escaped.

The hours sucked, and were just short of the maximum legal for an under-aged child. The pay sucked as well. The bare minimum for a performer his age.

Angus regularly lifted one of Lucre’s ‘town mayor’ baubles, which he inevitably replaced. They were cheap gems, but even cheap gems could be made to look expensive with the right artistry. If anyone knew how to run that for a profit, it was his Apa.

Two months passed, and every day, Goldrich came to Apa’s restaurant to complain.

Angus practiced his sneaking and his pickpocketing whilst they argued.

“This place is still mine,” said Apa, leaning on his cane and looking weaker than his true strength in front of the wealthy patrons crowding the tables. “Which means I serve what I want, I cook what I want, and I charge what I want. You want to run one of your… slices of paradise, you can open one anywhere the fuck else. It’s not my fault that your brand has shitty cuisine that costs more because you insist on homogenous fare.”

“We have a deal.”

“Yeah. And I’m following the very letter of that deal in  _ my _ contract. And by the way. Remember the ruling on your hokey duplicate contracts? Three strikes and you’re in deep legal shit? I just yesterday used a Box of Translocation to send the Burnsides’ contracts all the way to the Office of Records in Neverwinter. You’re going to be under some serious investigation in just two short weeks.”

Oh snap!

“YOU’RE FIRED!” Goldrich roared. “YOU ARE THE WORST INVESTMENT I HAVE EVER MADE. YOU’RE FIRED WITHOUT NOTICE EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!”

“You got fifty thousand gold?”

Goldrich was left panting as he realised the associated clauses in Taako’s contracts. Regular severance pay, early severance pay, defamation penalty… it all added up.

“By the way, I’m selling  _ A Slice of Taako _ for a hundred thousand gold provided I keep the rights to the restaurant name.”

Goldrich snapped his fingers, summoning a lackey. “Get me one hundred and fifty thousand gold. It is worth it to get rid of this menace.”

“And you’re also buying out the Burnsides’ at  _ their _ agreed severance pay,” said Taako. “Or I might take my time moving out.”

“Two hundred thousand gold,” corrected Goldrich. “And you’re all out of this resort by sundown.”

“Do-able,” allowed Apa.

“Done,” said Goldrich.

“You certainly have been,” cooed Apa.

Angus let him remove the spell that turned his skin green. And remained to watch the spectacle as Apa carefully and meticulously erased the entire chalkboard clean. “Ladies, Gentlemen, and Gentlethem…  _ A Slice of Taako _ is closing shortly. My staff and I will complete the orders we have, and then any staff who wish to remain will do Mr Goldrich’s best.”

Ren cast Speed on herself and expedited a number of orders. Then joined Apa by the door.

And so did all the kitchen staff.

There was a line of them. All coming up to Goldrich and repeating, “I’ll take my severance pay, today.” And Lulu added a kick to Goldrich’s shins.

The Burnsides and Apa and Angus and their gold - all of it - and all the former staff of  _ A Slice of Taako _ were out of Ravensroost Resort before sundown.

And it was so very telling that Mr Burnsides had a second Traveller’s Caravan made, packed, and ready to roll at that short a notice.

* * *

 

Taako said farewell to one apprentice per little town on the long road to Neverwinter. They had families. They could find jobs with Taako’s glowing references.

But the last and most heartbreaking was Ren.

“There’s a little mining town that doesn’t look too hard at documentation if you can do the work,” she said. “They mine diamonds, and… I wanna have my own place.”

Taako smiled, though his heart was breaking. “Shouldn’t be too hard to track you down. Just look for the second-best chef in all of Faerun.”

She laughed at that and made mock of punching him in the face. “I’m gonna work my ass off to give you some serious competition, Taako. You just watch.”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” he agreed. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll come to your new town and ask you for a job one day.”

“Yeah, I can always use someone to shuck peas or peel potatoes,” she grinned.

“Little shit.”

“Old swindler.”

And with that odd farewell, Ren turned away from the path that Taako and the Burnsides family were taking. Off towards the Woven Gulch.

Off to a different destiny.

Taako let Angus weep for her loss. Feeling more than a little stung around the eyes himself. Ren was… Ren was so much like him at that age that it hurt to see her go. Part of him wanted to adopt her and keep her away from the harm that had come to him over the years. On the other hand, she was competent and capable and had learned pretty much all of Taako’s tricks, magical and non.

She was going to be fine.

And he was going to keep telling himself that until his traitor eyes stopped leaking. Ren was going to be fucking  _ running _ Faerun in a decade or so. And he would tell himself  _ that _ until his traitor stomach stopped shaking from the utter dread of seeing his ersatz little sister walking away from his personal cloud of bad luck.

Ren was going to be fine. She was going to take over Faerun, one signature dish at a time.

And he was headed for Neverwinter because the most possible jobs were there. By way of Rockport, because of more chances for work, and possibilities for education for Angus.

He didn’t need to worry about Ren. But that fact was apparently not stopping him.

She was competent. She was going to take over the world. She’d be just peachy.

Angus was the one he needed to be concerned about. Sharp kid like him needed a decent education. He soaked up information like a sponge. Absorbed knowledge by osmosis. And had possibly rolled natural twenties on Perception and Intelligence. He had read his way through the entirety of the Ravensroost library from the moment he could piece words together. And if it wasn’t for the Caleb Cleveland series, most of Taako’s work would be in finding something to occupy him.

Seven years old, almost, and already learning Elven. Thank the gods that Angus didn’t share Taako’s trouble of language-specific dyslexia. That one had had him thinking he was a complete dope for more than half a century.

On the plus side, teaching his boy Elven had given him  _ one _ new book to read. Well. One old book. Uncle John’s Elven Bathroom Reader. A tome Taako had been hauling around since he had to strike out on his own at twelve. He’d picked it because of the wide margins and plentiful blank frontis pages. Not because he could read the Elven text within.

And now Angus was thumbing through the pages of a book not only foxed, but badgered, beared, wolverined, and very possibly dinosaured and dragoned.

Ren would be okay. Ren would be fine.

“Apa? Why’s this one story all funny?”

Taako had to take his rose quartz reading glasses out to see if it was a true problem. He just… couldn’t understand that double page, no matter what. “Huh.” And he couldn’t remember what it was about, either. “Must be some kind’a code thing for really,  _ really _ clever people. Give ‘em something to solve or that. Never did get it myself.”

“Or it’s an optical illusion,” said Angus. “My eyes wanna look away, no matter how hard I want to see what’s there.”

“Weird, huh?” said Taako.  _ Ren is going to be okay. Stop worrying. I’m not her real family, I don’t have to fret… _ “The margins’ve got a pretty baller recipe for Croque Monsieur, and some stuff about a duplication spell that’s pretty easy on the spell ingredients.”

“And notes on body transmutation,” said Angus.

“Yup. Y’r Apa’s hung around with some interesting folks.” Including one young protege who was too much like his younger self to be comfortable. She’s going to be fine. He could find work anywhere. They’d be pen friends. Or she’d never look back, like he did.

Angus turned the page. “Witch eyes,” he said. “Is that what they used to call heterochromia?”

“They did. It was supposed to be a bad omen or something. I could allegedly curse someone by  _ staring _ at them.” He bugged his eyes at Ango and made him giggle.

Angus read out loud in Elven. Translating to Common and checking to see if he was accurate. His pronunciation was getting better.

And then he read a margin note in Elven. But it wasn’t Elven. It was a Cant he used to share with… someone he ran with for… a long time. They had figured out how to encode it in writing after Saint Vingo’s, he knew that.

“Hoo boy,” Taako breathed. His heart ached. “That’s an old one.”

“What is it, Apa? It’s almost Elven, but not…”

“True. That’s a- that’s something of a Cant I used to share with a… a small gang I ran with. I don’t think many people know it any more.”

“Can you teach it to me, Apa? It can be our super secret code!”

Taako didn’t need to think. Teaching his baby a language that felt like home would help occupy him on the road. “Of course I can teach you. It’s a special tongue to me. I think there were entire years when it was all I spoke. It’ll be good to speak it again.”

“What’s it called, Apa?”

“We called it  _ Us.” _ he said, saying the word for it in its own name.

Angus echoed it in wonder. It was good to hear another voice speaking it again.

It was therefore no surprise that Angus knew most of it by the time they reached Rockport.


	9. Chapter 9

“As I recall, there’s an aptitude test,” said the golden-haired Elf on the other side of Headmaester Vastris’ desk. With… him? was a very small half-Elven boy. Were it not for the matching patterns of vitiligo across their noses and cheeks, Vastris would have assumed that the Elf had adopted the boy. “See where he might fit in, sort of thing.”

The boy looked small. Not underfed, but not overfed. Neat and clean, but the kind of neat and clean that spoke of a frugal habit worn in by years of not having money. His dark eyes seemed to be taking in every detail.

“I’m seven years old, Headmaester. I was poisoned before I was born.”

“Arsenic,” said the Elf. “It’s affected his growth.” A casual, affectionate touch to the boy’s hair. “Didn’t get his noggin, though. My baby’s pretty darn smart.”

Headmaester Vastris could gather some signs, too. Frugal habits meant a life with little in the way of resources. Which meant that this child had the potential to be a drag on the Rockport Academy of Higher Learning. “Buy in for the aptitude test is five hundred gold.”

“That much, huh? I must’a been lucky when I went through. It was free. Times change, I guess.”

That… startled her. “You… were an alumni?  _ Here?” _

“Over half a century ago, probably. Kind’a easy to lose track when you’re an Elf. Taako, from Tre-Llew Ddion. You might have me under Taako Taaco. Clerical error. T-A-A-K-O and T-A-A-C-O.”

Headmaester Vastris waved her wand over the summoning drawer and it disgorged the permanent record of Taako Taaco, from Tre-Llew Ddion. One mark off a perfect score.

If  _ he _ thought his boy was a genius… “Since you’re an alumnus, we can waive the test fee. Your son will have to perform it without parental supervision. In case  you have found a way to… assist... him.”

“I know you’ll be okay, sweet pea. You got this.”

Headmaester Vastris bade the boy empty his pockets and shake out his hair. Taako from TV was on record as having Criminal Habits, after all. After a quick Detect Magic and Insight check, she believed the boy to be intent on getting into school and learning his undersized butt off.

The testing room was empty of any distractions and contained a solitary desk. The test, of course, a single #2 pencil and high quality eraser.

“The beginning test is in Common,” she instructed. “If you know any other languages, we can supply other tests in those languages.”

“Apa taught me Elven, Common, Dwarven and Gerblin, ma’am.” He picked at his fingernails. “And a Cant he knows called Na’an.”

“Cants don’t count. But thank you for the information.”

The boy sat politely at the desk with his hands on his lap. Watching her and waiting for her leave.

Not what she expected from someone like Taako.

Headmaester Vastris readied her stopwatch. “You may begin… now.” She clicked it into action, nodded at the adjunct to watch his every move. And handed them the stopwatch.

Then she returned to her office to get the paperwork sorted. “You said your surname was a clerical error?”

“Yeah, it kind’a follows me around. I don’t have any other family apart from my baby, so… no family name.  _ He _ gets ‘Taakoson’ of course.”

“And his mother?”

“I’m his mother.”

Vastris boggled at him, looked at his permanent record, and boggled at him again.

“Intersex. I birthed him. But since I identify as male, I get ‘Apa’. It’s… kind’a cute.”

Vastris dutifully wrote that down. “Father?”

Taako tutted and sighed. “Painful topic. My… assistant… when I was doing a travelling show? Uhm. He… drugged me and…”

Oh. Oh shit. “I’m sorry. I take it he won’t be a person of contact.”

“Not unless you got a ouija board. He was executed for it, in the end. That, and the poisoning.”

Ouch. “Any… medical issues?”

“I’m allergic to peanuts, so it follows that he might be at risk. We haven’t done any tests, though. Best to play it safe, right?”

Vastris nodded. Writing it down. Writing it all down. Birthdate and place. Illnesses survived. Innoculations wanted - all of them. And if there were any for Taako, he wanted in, too. Angus wasn’t a typical name by an Elven parent and she said so.

“Someone else told me his name,” said Taako. “I was kind’a… out of it by then.” He shrugged. “It happened in the temple, and the gods had heard, so… Had to roll with it.” He turned to look at the closed door between himself and his son. “She was right, though. He  _ is _ worth the world.”

Vastris left the question of who ‘she’ was unasked and unanswered. “Any other people involved in his life?”

“Well, there’s the Burnsides. Magnus Burnsides and his wife Julia and their kid Lucinda. Lulu for short. Those two have been close friends since birth. We -uh- share a residence on the East side of town.”

Low income neighbourhood. Low rent neighbourhood. The only way it could be worse is if they occupied a Traveller’s caravan park. “Postal address?”

“Box forty-nine, East North Street postal office. It’ll reach us.”

“And residential address?”

Taako looked defensive. “We… we just got here, you understand. There’s… not a permanent address yet. Still finding our feet. I’m sure you understand the troubles happening lately.”

So they  _ did _ live in a caravan park. At least for now. Vastris also understood the permanence of temporary things. And since Taako had arranged for a postal box before he arranged for a home, things were looking bad on the income from this child. On the other hand, Vastris also knew how to market a genuine genuis to rich dullards with more money than sense as an example of what her school was capable of.

Dress young Angus Taakoson up in a crisp uniform and present him as the school show-pony and none of the wealthy had to know that this was a child of ill circumstance.

The adjunct emerged with a thick sheaf of papers. “Young Master Taakoson has finished with the Common test, Headmaester. He’s ready for his other languages, now.”

Both she and Taako chorused, “Already?” But only Taako added, “That’s my beautiful magic boy.”

Vastris summoned the tests for the three other languages Angus knew, and exchanged them for the completed one so she could grade it.

The kid had corrected some of the passages of high literature. For grammar  _ and _ spelling. And then answered the context questions.

Vastris ignored Taako’s increasingly smug expression as she boggled at the answers. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. She even had to give him extra credit for the corrections. Once she looked them up to ascertain their correctness.

“He reads those four-inch-thick Caleb Cleveland novels for fun,” said Taako. “He even read the Encyclopaedia Faerunica all the way through for something to do. Your challenge is definitely going to be keeping him from getting bored.”

It was all she could do to stop herself from humming  _ We’re in the Money. _ Oh, what an absolute  _ fortune _ she could make off of showing off this boy to the wealthy, unimaginative blobs who thought that money could make a genius out of mud.

“Yes. Well. You know our library is second only to the one in Neverwinter, of course. And we have a borrowing program with them, should Angus feel the need for such access.” Her problem was also what to teach this kid. “I think courses in expressive arts may help quell his boredom. Some physical activities to assist in increasing his fitness. Maybe even some extra languages.”

Taako was grinning like the cat that had found the canary in the cream. “So he qualifies for the grant, then.”

Of fucking course he qualified for the grant, but Vastris wasn’t going to say that out loud. “I’ll have to consult with the board, of course. But I see little in the way of any problems.”

“Excellent,” cooed Taako. “And since Angus is a paid member of the Faerun Actor’s Guild, any showing off is to be paid at the standard rate of ten silver per hour.”

Easily affordable in comparison to the tuition fees she’d be able to wring out of the wealthy blobs. “I will make note of that,” she promised, already writing it down.

* * *

 

Angus loved his crisp new uniform. Sure, the books were a little heavy, but he had Apa to help him. They took an omnibus from the East side, across the river by the big bridge to the station in the business hub, and then it was a quarter of a mile to walk to the gates of Rockport Academy. Apa, also in a crisp new uniform, would bid Angus farewell at the gates and then hurry off to his new job four blocks away. Using his cane because of the lingering damage left over from arsenic poisoning.

Today’s a good day. Apa’s just using the cane to keep time as he walks.

Big, burly Bella greeted him on the other side of the gate. She’s part Orc and one hundred percent nerd and had decided to be Angus’ big sister. She kept the rowdy ones away just by breathing within Angus’ aura. They’re study buddies and fast becoming best friends over Caleb Cleveland. 

“How’s the violin fund?” Bella asked. She knew that Angus was a Grant Kid. Something that the wealthy Humans in Rockport Academy despised. Especially since Grant Kids outshone them at everything. She, too, was a Grant Kid, talented at amazingly detailed arts where Angus was knowledge-brilliant.

“We’re halfway up the jar,” said Angus. Rent, even renting space in a caravan park, was expensive. As was clean water. At least the food was cheap, in the form of leftovers from Apa’s job. Most of Apa’s winnings from Goldrich’s payoffs had been eaten up in subsequent lawsuits that, though Apa won, still cost money. A lot of money. The rest went on Angus’ uniform and school things.

But Apa was pretty smart. He knew where best to use his skills and how to get noticed as a culinary artist.

The whole pastry shop plan was still a ‘go’, and in the meantime, Apa was saving up every last copper groat to get Angus a violin to play. All the best detectives played violin. He had to fit the brand.

Lulu was in a more… ordinary school. She didn’t need a grant or a uniform and didn’t have clubs or activities. But Lulu was a more ordinary child. She and Angus still played on the playgrounds in the afternoon and ate with the Burnsides and Apa at night. And did all the ordinary things that people in the caravan park did. She had Uncle Magnus and Aunt Julia (according to Apa, Mango and Juju) to help her with her needs and, despite his multiple efforts to stop them, they helped fill the jar to buy Angus his violin.

Five hundred gold took a long time to save up when it was being gathered in coppers and silvers.

And in the meantime, he was learning to play on one of the instruments in the school’s extensive holdings of what boiled down to three and a half orchestras.

He already had a starter wand. A simple, turned piece of Hazelwood that Uncle Magnus had carved himself, and a polished moonstone in the butt of the handle. The stone was there just to make it look fancy. Angus knew for a fact that any magic-user could cast with any old hazelwood stick, so long as it wasn’t cracked. But so, so many people assumed you needed exotic wood from far off lands and hard-to-get crystals from -as Apa would say- the farthest reaches of Horseshittia. Therefore, their little family added some embellishments. Like the moonstone. And the criss-cross wound thread on the handle. And the deep, rich polish that made it look like some unlikely liquid that just  _ decided _ to be a wand, today.

He kept it on a lanyard around his neck, where it spent most of its time pressed against his chest by his school books.

“That’s great. Istus smile on it going the whole way,” said Bella.

“Are you good for paints?”

“Mom can only afford watercolours and small cards, so I’ve been working on my miniatures. Thank your uncle for those brushes he made. They were just the thing I needed.”

“I’ll be sure to pass it along. Are you doing good in your Elven classes?”

“I am now.” 

A bunch of toughs with far blue-er blood than Angus could ever hope for melted away as they approached Angus’ first classroom. They were what Tutor Andrus called ‘blobs’ and were jealous of the Grant Kids’ success when they were busy failing.

So far, Angus’ attempts to offer tutoring were a failure. They were too proud to accept help from a boy half their height and under half their age. Proud of what, Angus couldn’t figure out. Unless they actually  _ liked _ being human-shaped lumps with all the talent and skill of a concussed whelk. On the other hand, they had money, and money could pay for a great many things. Including the privilege of wasting their time and everyone else’s in Rockport Academy.

They lacked a lot of things. Wit, intelligence, talent, motivation, charm… and the bravery to do anything that could get them in trouble. Which was why Angus was safe from their negative attentions when he was in any classroom or within line of sight of any of the teachers.

The most they could do in a classroom was call Angus names.

“Lord Faufner. You will be assisted by Master Taakoson, today.”

Angus winced.

“Why’d I gotta listen to the bastard shrimp?”

Angus sighed, “If you paid as much attention to your grammar as you did to thing you  _ think _ might embarrass people, sir, you wouldn’t need to listen to me. You’re a  _ lord. _ Your people expect certain things from you.”

Faufner snorted. “Peasants. Who cares about  _ them?” _

“You should,” said Angus. “Or you could wind up like Governor Kalen.”

“Who’s he?”

Angus told the story of how Kalen had died owing to a bad case of peasant revolt. Using perfect grammar and none of Apa’s… colourful interjections.

Tutor Felicity nodded approvingly. “Let that be a lesson to  _ all _ of you young lords and ladies. You depend on your people as much as they depend on you. Look after them and they will look after you. Fail them, and…” she devolved into song, “A cheap and chippy chopper on a biiig, black block.”

Angus rather thought that lords and ladies depended rather more on their peasants than their peasants depended on their lords, but didn’t say so out loud.

“...still don’t wanna take lessons from a baby,” mumbled Faufner.

“Put effort into learning them and you won’t have to,” said Tutor Felicity. “Remember, young Master Taakoson is only in this class to improve his penmanship. The rest of you are here to learn how to speak and write clearly and properly. Little. Lady. Like.”

Princess Thelissamine mumbled, “Like, gotta go,” into her Stone of Farspeech.

Tutor Felicity confiscated the object for the duration of the class.


	10. Chapter 10

Working in a restaurant was only a stepping stone. People were asking if ‘Chef Taako’ was in after only a couple of weeks. The head brass were impressed and talking extra pay. Which was great. What he really wanted to do was pitch his own restaurant.  _ Taako’s Delights. _ Mostly pastries, because living in this city of Bodettes stressed him out and he made fucking excellent pastries when he was stressed. All that kneading and rolling. His puff pastry had never been in better form.

But, alongside the pastry restaurant, he would have a place of permanent residence. Bought and paid for by investors, initially. But still  _ owned. _ Permanence would mean all sorts of doors opening for Ango and, because he owed them, Mango and Juju and Lulu as well.

There was a place he had an eye on. Between Mango’s woodworking skills, Juju’s talent for wrought iron, and his own use of Mending, he could have it back in a liveable condition within a week. And up to business standards a week after that.

All he really had to do was stop Mango from carving ducks into fucking everything and it would be golden.

And even better news - Goldrich had been exposed to the world as the fraud he was, and his empire was now dust. No more  _ Slice of Perfections _ in random areas, mocking him with their bland imitations of his good food.

Taako smacked the basting pipette out of a staff member’s hand. “I said ‘no basting’, you leave it alone for another hour and trust ch’boy. That turkey will be fucking perfect.” Hachi machi, his leg just decided to twinge. He limped over to the next station. Turned a set of scallops, and moved on. Good. Good. Nobody was fucking up this time. “Drizzle more sauce into that risotto, it’s looking dry.”

“Yes chef.”

He limped back to the stool at the assembly area. Damn Sazed and his arsenic. Damn the lingering after-effects that needed a Superb Restoration to fix. Damn the fact that the longer he let it ride, the better the Cleric he needed to fix it.

His boy came first. Ango always did.

He should take it a little easier on the good days, since they were inevitably followed by horrible ones. Less skipping. Less trotting. More measured and steady pace. Conserve the energy and see if it did anything to prevent or ameliorate days like today.

Worth a shot.

Taako hooked his cane over his arm so he could focus on the food going out. Perfect. Perfect. “Ellis! This medium rare steak is overdone! Do it again.”

“Yes, chef. Sorry, chef.”

“Keep an eye on the timer, and no slinking off for a smoke.”

“Yes, chef.”

Three out of four perfect dishes went out with an apology to the one who missed out on theirs for another handful of minutes.

“Cain, get rid of that gum,” said Taako. One advantage of being a parent was an over-the-horizon radar for shenanigans. “In the fucking bin, not on your gods-damned station.”

“Yes, chef.”

Louise, one of the waitstaff, had a worried expression. “A customer would like to speak to the chef.”

Fuck. That could make or break his entire fucking month. He didn’t need to fake leaning on his cane, right now. His leg was absolutely giving him hell. Taako masked the pain as much as he could.

She was a humanman woman. Late forties. White hair. Fancy-ass blue robe and an expression of mild horror on her face. The first words out of her mouth were, “What happened to your leg?”

“Stupid assistant with a bottle of arsenic,” he answered. “Is there a problem with your meal?” She didn’t seem like the type to complain for free stuff, but there was always a first time for everything.

“No. The opposite of a problem. Everything was… perfect. I was… I was wondering if I might… assist. In a business venture you might have.”

This could easily be another Goldrich type. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I just… I just want to support… talent… whenever I find it.”

“Horseshit,” he said. “Nobody does that kind of thing with no strings. There’s a hook in there somewhere, and  _ this _ fish ain’t biting until he knows where it is.”

She looked away. Looked down. Sighed. “I don’t have children,” she said. “I have no way to pass my name on or have a legacy. I was hoping… with good relations between us that… you might remember me fondly. Somehow. In your… endeavour.”

“I’m not naming the restaurant after anyone but me,” he told her. “You get a portrait in the public area and a cake named after you. That’s it.”

“I’m rather partial to Elderflower flavouring. If that matters,” she allowed. “I’m fully prepared to support your business without any further interference.”

She didn’t seem like a mob type, either. “That’s it? A legacy?”

“Yes.”

“I want it in writing, notarized, and registered with the Neverwinter Office of Records.”

“Of course. I’ll get the contracts written up today. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

She was back inside an hour. With identical contracts and a notary to witness. Another Bodette, but still a notary.

Things were finally coming up Taako.

The contract was all legal. Nothing hinky. Nothing lurking in the fine print. Just a woman of advanced years looking to leave a little mark on the world.

She signed the contract,  _ Lucretia Davenport. _ And gave him what amounted to a bottomless chequebook to do what he liked, where he liked, and how he liked. With only one dish named after her, and a portrait in the customer zone.

All the same, he was going to fucking  _ earn _ that Superior Restoration spell.

He did what he did with Goldrich, made a copy himself, and filed it himself. The only difference this time was that this humanman was actually honest. 

* * *

 

_ Taako’s Delights _ gleamed on the streets of Rockport. Confectionery sat in display cases like jewels, and the little bistro tables inside and out were always full. There were pies and pasties alongside the pastries. Fat and succulent and redolent with herbs and spices.

And, underneath a portrait of an old human woman, in a very special display case, was a creation of Elderflower, fondant, and sparkling sugar crystals called  _ Lucy’s Legacy. _ Available in cupcake, midi, and maxi cake forms. It was very popular.

Angus was turning eight, and life was looking so much better than it had been. Apa kept his caravan in a garage, because he never trusted good fortune to last. Right alongside the Burnsides’ one, even though they lived next door and made carved goods and wrought iron housewares. Angus had so little to do that he had taken to helping out the Rockport Militia with various criminal cases, earning the conjoined families a little more in the way of gold. That and his appearance fees had them all comfortable, at least.

The restaurant was buzzing as usual, but Apa always knew when his beautiful magic boy had returned.

“Clear a path,” Apa shouted above the bustling hubbub. “Let my baby boy in. C’mon.” And they did. Because they loved Apa’s food. Because they’d come to know Angus in the process of coming to know Apa. Because they had respect for them all.

Apa scooped Angus up in his free hand and peppered his face with kisses. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“It can’t be my birthday. That was last year.”

Apa grinned at the goof. “That’s the thing with birthdays. They’re kind of an annual thing.” He put Angus down and limped over to a large gift box waiting in a corner. “But if you don’t want this…”

“Oh, I suppose I could take it,” he allowed, hopping up to where it rested and carefully prying the lid off.

It was a violin case. Containing a violin. Not second-hand. Not pre-loved. But brand new.

Several customers broke into applause.

“So give us a tune, then,” said Apa. “Let’s hear it sing.”

Angus stood on the shelf and made sure it was tuned before he played from his heart. Not any popular tune, but notes of love. For his family. For the opportunities he had. For the friends he had made. For the cases he’d solved. And mostly for his Apa, who loved him so much that he’d gone to the trouble to get him this.

Best birthday present ever. Better, even than the complete Caleb Cleveland book set he’d got last year. Better than anything.

He only stopped playing because his arms were getting tired.

Standing ovation.

“The violin fund is no more,” Angus announced. “All tips are now paying to fix up Apa’s leg.”

Laughter, and the jingling of coins into the big jar by the till.

“That’s my baby, folks,” Apa cheered. “Isn’t he fantastic? He’s here all week. Try the profiteroles.”

Angus hopped down, carefully putting the violin away in its case. There would be a feast after  _ Taako’s Delights _ closed for the evening. But for now, he put the violin away in his room and scurried back downstairs to be whatever help he could be. To whomever needed the help at the time.

It didn’t matter to Angus whether it was solving a crime or folding a cruller. He loved being helpful.

So he went into the kitchens like he had hundreds of times before, and checked what needed his hands. But nothing needed the help. Even Apa’s staff were taking a break outside in the cool evening air. Gossiping about their daily business.

Instead of the usual bustle, there was a girl in a black robe. She was taller than Angus. Half-Elven like him. And like him, she had vitiligo across her nose and cheeks. And she looked so much like Lulu that it was uncanny. She looked so much like  _ Angus _ that it was uncanny.

“May I help you?” Angus asked.

“I’ve seen all I need to see. Thank you,” she said. And then turned and left.

And then the staff came back in, returning to the usual afternoon bustle. Nobody said anything about the strange little girl.

* * *

 

Unseen by mortal eyes, Stella joined Kravitz on their walk through the Prime Material Plane.

“You weren’t supposed to talk to him,” Kravitz admonished.

“It wasn’t a real conversation. He’ll forget about me in a week or less.”

Kravitz tutted and sighed in the annoying way the grown Reapers had of making sure Stella knew she was wrong about something. “Did you find some form of satisfaction, at least?”

She looked back. Shrugged. “I have a brother and I know he’s happy. I have a parent and I know  _ he’s _ happy. Neither of them know I existed. Neither of them know I died before I was born. I wanted to tell them, but… what would telling them help?”

“Well. At least you’re wise enough for that one,” said Kravitz. “I must have seen thousands of others like you trying to haunt their living family. Letting them know things they never needed to know. It always ended in heartbreak.”

Stella considered this. She was eerily sharp, even for a child of the Raven Queen. Her twin’s influence, no doubt. Her parents’ genes at work, even post-mortem. “And possibly suicide, in more than one case?”

“Yes,” said Kravitz. Using the please-stop-talking-about-this voice. “Back to business. The lich we’re tracing is named Sildar Hallwinter. Focus your energies on that name. See if you can feel the pull of his soul on yours.”

Stella did as she was told. This was a hefty bounty. Nine years uncollected. Obviously, nobody expected her to find him, let alone collect him. This was the Reaper Squad and her mother the Queen testing her abilities.

She focussed on the name. Concentrated on the wayward soul and the… scent… of Lichyness.

And summoned a guiding orb that lead them to the Mercenary Quarter. Where sellswords of all types gathered to find business.

And where a doughy chubster in blue jeans peered at a notice board through black-framed glasses.

Stella looked to Kravitz. Who assessed the man before stepping into reality as a somberly dressed and handsome young man. He had also manifested a wallet embossed with the initials S.H. “Pardon me, sir. Is this yours? I found it by your feet.”

The man looked at it and said, “Those aren’t my initials. Sorry. My name is Barry J. Bluejeans and I’m just trying to get through another damn day.”

“My mistake,” said Kravitz, and vanished into the crowd. Once properly invisible again, he cursed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but the trace we run on this guy always ends up at that guy.” He blew a raspberry. “I was hoping your innate genius might break the curse.”

“Anything else to learn from this plane?” asked Stella.

“Just the usual escort work, today. Nothing special.” Kravitz took her hand and walked with a sister that was more like a daughter towards someone else’s ultimate destination. She learned fast. They were running out of things to teach her.


	11. Chapter 11

Some idiot had a magic eyepiece that made their imagination reality. Dickhead should have really studied up about the Creatures From the Id before using it. But that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Taako, his son (graduated valedictorian with honours) and the Burnsides were all ready to bail the fuck out of Rockport at a moment’s notice.

Grab the valuables, deny everything, and head for the hills.

What mattered most was that Ango had his violin and his Caleb Cleveland books. Taako kept a stash of precious metals, gems, and jewellery in the caravan as a matter of course. A matter of habit. He’d been kicked out, run out, chased out, and just had to plain old bolt from so many places in his time that he kept a go bag out of habit. And instilled that habit in others.

Travel rations for a week. Money for a month. Minimum of three changes of clothes and some harsh weather gear.

After that, it was whatever he could grab in thirty seconds.

Which happened to be the tip jar and Angus.

He hadn’t planned the escape route, just went with whatever road seemed least travelled.

Which was now overgrown and neglected and miles from anywhere and unlit by anything else but the moons.

“Taako,” Mango shouted from behind. “It’s too dark, I can’t see shit!”

Taako lit the lantern on the rear of his caravan with a little bit of Prestidigitation. “Follow that. I’m tryin’a find a clearing.”

“Thank you.”

It took another hour on the wrecked road, but he found one. Some ruined Elven village over a hundred and fifty years dead.

It seemed… Familiar.

“Ango, you and I are gathering fallen wood. Beware of snakes, spiders and scorpions.”

“Got it, Apa.”

They found wood, and another pair of glowing eyes in the dark.

“Friend or foe?” asked a gruff voice in the night.

“We could ask the same,” said Taako. “Listen. We’re just trying to get away from some bad shit going down in Rockport. We don’t want any more trouble.”

“Same here,” said the voice. It belonged to a Dwarf. “The band of mercs I was with decided to mess with some kind’a magic rock. Things went to shit pretty quick, so I bailed. I’m not exactly in the best of shape for trouble either.”

“So the deal is, we don’t make trouble for each other and just… chill for tonight?” asked Taako.

“Fair by me.” He stepped closer. Reached out a hand. “Name’s Merle Highchurch.”

“Taako. That’s my son, Angus.” And it belatedly occurred to him that he would be nine years old in just a few days.

“Hello, sir.”

“Yeah great,” said Merle. “You got humans with you?”

“Magnus, Julia, and Lucinda Burnsides. Yeah. They’re… family friends. Friendly family. I dunno. We’ve been living in each other’s pockets so long, it’s a habit.”

“Fair enough.”

They all bought the firewood to the camp and Taako set it alight with a cantrip. Introductions were made and Taako rustled up a stew out of their forage.

Juju kept Lulu between herself and Mango. Taako kept Ango close to him.

Merle was a naturally grumpy fellow who seemed to be permanently expecting the world to end tomorrow. He said he was a Cleric, but Taako couldn’t be that sure. He wasn’t exactly the very model of a modern major holy man. He had that don’t-touch-me grumpiness that instantly endeared him to the children in the same way that cats were magnetically attracted to people who were allergic to them.

Life hadn’t treated him all that great, and he was headed to Neverwinter. He had a cousin who might be able to swing him a job or two. Maybe.

They were headed to Neverwinter. As soon as they could figure out how to get there. There were better prospects there than the train wreck currently happening in Rockport.

Taako had the early dawn watch, though nothing happened to them in the night. And it was only by the sun’s gently colouring rays that he realised where they’d wound up.

Tre-Llew Ddion.

This used to be his playground.

He vividly remembered running through these streets. Thinking it was a game how all the vendors would throw things at him. At least until his mother explained that people foolishly thought his mismatched eyes were bad luck.

There was where Aunt Ques had her bread shop. Here was where Uncle Ench ran his wand-making workshop. There was where the butcher was, where Uncle Tortie would turn in his kills for sale or dismemberment.

“Apa?” Ango trotted up to hold his free hand. “Are you okay?”

And there was the burned ruin of his first house. “I’ve come home,” he whispered. Now aware that his face was wet. “This is Tre-Llew Ddion. This is where I came from.”

“What did it used to be like?”

Taako cast a lot of illusions, that morning. Returning ghostly life to the overgrown streets and shape to the collapsed buildings, telling scattered stories of a childhood with nothing, and being passed from family member to family member since his father left him when he was four. Of a time when the world couldn’t hurt him more than a scraped knee because he had a family.

All gone, now.

All softly returning to the earth from whence it had sprung.

It was… almost fun. Sharing this little piece of himself.

Until he reached a particular place on a particular road, and all the fun died where she had. He bent, despite the pain in his leg, to touch the stone that had heard her last heartbeats.

“Apa?”

“Unka Ko?”

His voice couldn’t even whisper. He didn’t know he could still mourn her after so long an absence. “This is where my mother died.”

There was no trace but his memory. A falling body in the night. An arrow in her back. The cobblestone under his fingers had gathered moss and grass, but no trace of blood remained. No bones were bleaching on these abandoned roads. Nothing remained of his mother but his memory.

The Dwarf patted him on the shoulder. “Time to get moving. According to my map, there’s a village east of here. We wanna get there before sundown.”

For the second time in his life, Taako left Tre-Llew Ddion.

* * *

 

One year. It ate all their funds. Sucked the joy out of living because temporary jobs were all they could get. And eventually, at fucking last, Mr Highchurch’s asshole cousin finally delivered on his promise of a job.

The last job they’d ever need.

Allegedly.

Angus knew that that wording was supposed to mean that they were going to be rich, but… He couldn’t help getting a corollary murder vibe.

Which was why he, Lulu, and Aunt Julia were following a day behind with the horses and the caravans. If anyone was going to murder those men, she swore it would be her, just for getting into trouble without her.

Angus was fairly certain that nobody was going to kill them. Gundren Rockseeker didn’t feel like the murdery type. And he’d had plenty of experience with the murdery type owing to an increasing career in solving murders and mysteries that ended up feeding everyone else while everyone else’s work paid for frivolities like food and rental of some campgrounds dotted around Neverwinter.

And, if this paid off like it was supposed to, Apa could finally afford to get his leg fixed. Finding a high-level Cleric to do Superior Restoration wouldn’t be cheap.

Angus worried about the trio. It should have been a doddle, taking the wagon full of supplies to Phandalin. But they had already passed a concealed wagon that looked astonishingly like the one that Apa had taken with Uncle Magnus and Mr Highchurch. And then they passed a pair of dead horses that had been pulled off to the side of the road.

Angus began playing his violin. So he could close his eyes and not think very hard about what he’d just seen.

All the same, the worry leaked through into his playing.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” soothed Aunt Julia. “They haven’t had nearly enough time to get into deep crap, yet.”

Angus tried to focus on more optimistic notes. He tried really hard. Maybe if he took a few levels in Bardic skills, he could help heal up Apa all by himself. Apa kept telling Angus how he was a genius. He could plausibly make his violin weave actual magic.

It was a thought. Apa had already taught him some magic. He wasn’t religious enough to take a level in Cleric…

He just wanted to help Apa in any way he could.

With that thought in mind, he put his hat on the cobblestones of Phandalin once they got there and began to play. Any gold they gathered on the way was more gold to pay for the spell he needed. Lulu was content to dance to his tune while Aunt Julia found and rented some campgrounds for the caravans.

There wasn’t much in the way of free coin. The economy was in the shitter. But he did manage to gather enough for a couple of rooms at one of the inns. Or meal supplies at one of the stores, since Aunt Julia had already paid for a campground.

Every little bit helped. He managed to play for a healthy amount of gold and silver for a handful of hours before Aunt Julia found them and showed them where the camp was. On the way, they got some cheap supplies that Aunt Julia could well handle in Apa’s absence. It would make a decent, filling porridge.

“You shouldn’t be playing for our meals,” sighed Aunt Julia. “I could look for day work, but… you two need supervision and… we’re not here for that long anyway.”

“Music is a good temporary business, ma’am. And I can keep watch for Apa and the others.”

She sighed. “Fine. But I’m doing some drumming with you. Just in case some asshole tries to start some trouble.”

“Deal,” allowed Angus.

It was a night and a day before the wagon made it to Phandalin. Apa and Uncle Magnus and Mr Highchurch were all safe and sound. And they had one more with them. A roughly treated man in leather armour and blue jeans.

Apa waved as they passed, and Angus’ playing went from evocative and emotional to lively and joyful. His family was still in one piece.

It would not be so inside of a week.

* * *

 

Things went to shit so very quickly. Gundren became overtaken by the gauntlet, and went fantasy Dark Phoenix on them. Furious at Orcs. Angry at the world.

Taako’s attention narrowed to one small boy with his violin in the town square. He didn’t care what Killian had to say. He had to save his boy. He hurried as much as he could for the small family, and yelled in _Us,_ _“Angel! Fun times!”_

Ango passed a brief message to Juju and Lulu as he put his violin in its case and got ready to get scooped up.

Juju picked up Lulu.

Taako activated his cane. Casting Expeditious Retreat on himself and one other target.

Juju. Just as she started running.

He collided with Ango, picking him up as he ran. Straight-barrel the fuck away from the flaming Dwarf.

Who detonated.

The umbrella on his back vibrated.

Unfurled.

There was a sound worse than a thousand raging furnaces.

The ground underneath his feet burned.

Melted.

A wave of pressure and heat pushed him forwards.

He held his son close and kept running.

Just keep running.

His shoes caught fire.

Just keep running.

His feet seared against the melting soil.

Just keep running.

The pain was the worst thing he had ever felt in his life.

He tripped.

And the force pushed him out. 

Lifted him up. 

Carried him out beyond the light and the flames.

He wrapped his arm around Ango’s head as the ground rose up to meet them.

Once.

Twice.

Three strikes, and he passed out.


	12. Chapter 12

When Angus woke up, there was an unwelcome smell of burning flesh. A gaudy umbrella lay open, poking out of Apa’s pack. It must have protected them from the firestorm.

Most of them.

Apa’s legs were smoking. Smouldering. Charred below the knee.

Angus cast Prestidigitation to extinguish the flame, but he didn’t know what else to do.

There was little left of Phandalin but a circle of cooling glass. What buildings still remained were on fire or smouldering ruins. Smoke and ash stained the air.

The caravans.

The horses.

Aunt Julia.

Cousin Lulu.

Uncle Magnus.

Mr Highchurch.

Gone.

He put his violin case down and checked Apa. He was alive. There was that. Angus didn’t want him to wake up, just yet. He’d be in worse pain than ever.

He looked around, but couldn’t see much more than utter devastation. A mile-wide circle of black glass. A well on the other side of it, melted down like a candle. Buildings outside of the circle, melted.

And in the middle of the glass, a carbon lump in the shape of a dwarf, with a shining gauntlet raised to the sky. As if he’d been smote from above for challenging the gods.

Movement that wasn’t fire.

People!

Uncle Magnus!

And Mr Highchurch!

And that Orc lady who he hadn’t had a chance to meet.

He had just enough time to identify them before tears blotted them from his vision. He was so glad to see them and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to deal with first.

How to tell Uncle Magnus about Aunt Julia?

How to ask for help for Apa?

How to know what to do for Phandalin.

A whole town had burned up.

The horses and the caravans were burned up.

Lulu had been burned up.

He was supposed to be smart.

He didn’t know what to do.

He heard Uncle Magnus calling for Julia.

He didn’t know what to do.

He heard Apa moaning in pain, even though he was still unconscious.

He didn’t know what to do.

He was ten years old tomorrow.

Half of his family was dead.

His dwelling was gone.

He had a violin.

His Apa was hurt.

And he didn’t know what to do.

* * *

 

Fuck. This had gone bad. Killian felt heartbroken when she saw what was left of Phandalin.

There was a crying child. The little bard kid from the town square. How the fuck did he get there? And where was his sister and mom?

And right by him was the wizard with the fancy umbrella, which was still opened. His feet… oh gods…

He must have run to save this kid.

_ Something doesn’t fit… _

“JULIAAAAAA!”

Magnus was shouting himself hoarse.

And there were no other signs of life in Phandalin.

What was left of Phandalin.

“Lady,” said the Dwarf. “What the actual fuck?”

Killian sighed. “I literally can’t explain it to you.” She got up. Picked up the Dwarf by his collar. Traced a wide berth around the remains of the other dwarf on her way to Taako and the kid. “You’re a Cleric. There’s a patient. Do some good.”

She couldn’t help Phandalin, but she could pick up a crying child and murmur soothing things. Hold the poor kid tight and pat his back and coo, “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I tried and I failed and I’m sorry.”

“JUUUUUUULIAAAAAAAAAAAA…” Now it was starting to sink in. Now he was starting to weep. “LULU…”

The little girl… the little girl dancing in the square had been his…

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Sorry couldn’t fix this.

Nothing could fix this.

Taako woke up screaming.”The FUCK?!”

Merle. His name was Merle. He had a big jug in his knapsack. Which he handed to Taako with a, “Drink all of this.”

Killian caught the scent of vile rotgut.

“Can’t heal you all the way, but that shit’ll make it so you don’t care,” said Merle.

“Shittiest. Cleric. Ever,” snarled Taako.

“JULIA! LULU!”

Killian gently pulled Magnus away from the centre of the circle. Let him revel in denial for a little bit more. Let him have that mercy.

She had failed them all.

“That glove,” said the kid.

“Stay away from it,” she said. “It’s very dangerous. I need… I need some help to safely contain it.”

Taako, halfway through the jug of rotgut, gestured with his cane. “Yooo wannit dealt with?” He summoned a wobbly, mutant Bigby’s Hand, which swatted the corpse flat and picked up the gauntlet out of the mess, which it then dropped into Taako’s pack. “There. ‘S dealt with.” He took another pull of the jug. “Yooo bett’r not be stealin’ my baby. ‘S mine. Y’ hurt ‘im ‘n’ I fuggin killya.”

Only now did Killian see the points on the little boy’s ears.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m just holding him. He needs hugs.”

Taako mumbled something unintelligible and passed out.

Merle tidied him up and folded up the umbrella. Looked around him and announced, “We really suck at this.”

_ She _ could hear the siren song of the gauntlet. Trying to lure her into setting fire to all of her problems. Fire was so efficient at getting rid of problems. “None of you want that thing?”

Magnus had found something in the charcoal piles that were once Phandalin. Whatever it was, it broke him. He just… collapsed where he was. A heap in the shape of a man.

This had gone so bad. But these three men could ignore the thrall of a Relic without training!

The Bureau needed them. Broken or not. Burned or not. Shitty at their calling or not.

They had one special talent that the Bureau needed above all else.

The ability to secure Grand Relics.

She walked over to Magnus and put a gentle arm around his shoulder.

He was holding the charred remains of a carved toy duck.

“...lulu’s lucky ducky,” he croaked. “...my girls…”

This was such a mess.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Useless sounds. “But… I need you to come with me. All of you.”

They’d have to improvise a stretcher for Taako. He wasn’t walking anywhere any time soon. Magnus would need counselling for certain. Merle would need training. Taako needed the best of Clerics and modern medicine combined. And they all needed to get the fuck away from Phandalin.

She put the boy in Magnus’ arms, even though he wouldn’t let go of the duck. Found and cut some poles and got some coats to become the stretcher. Enlisted Merle’s help to move Taako onto that platform.

If she had the rest of her team… but no. They’d run afoul of the other hazards in Wave Echo Cave and had had to return to the base. There would be seats for all the survivors and Taako would be safe enough on the travel pod floor.

He was anaesthetised enough for a short journey anyway.

Killian, finally sure she was ready, summoned a globe. And began to pray that she was doing the right thing.

* * *

 

Julia know that Taako had a trick up his sleeve with that cane, but gods  _ damn _ it… The least he could do was warn a person.

He’d made the spell when he was still pregnant with Angus. All that generative power plus compensating for an incredibly diminished move score meant that she rocketed away from Phandalin at Fantasy Warp Nine.

It was all she could do to not bounce off any hazards between there and Neverwinter.

She failed on that one, focusing intently on protecting Lulu from any impacts and taking the hits herself.

They finally came to a halt in one of the Neverwinter City Fountains and she was so very glad to be alive that the City Watch tested her for public inebriation.

By the time they all made it back to Phandalin, there was nothing alive.

Not her beautiful man.

Not Angus.

Not Taako.

Not even that weird Dwarf fellow who claimed he was a cleric.

Not a soul.

She didn’t want to believe her sweet man was gone. She didn’t want to think that Taako hadn’t found a way out.

Except…

There was nothing there.

Just black glass and charcoal and ash.

And some buildings that had melted like hot wax.

She had nothing left. Not her sweet man. Not her friend. Not her caravan. Not her horse. Nothing.

The people who came with her to investigate her claims believed her. There was that. But the important stuff?

Gone.

Some charities would help her, but only for a while.

She needed to start over from nothing.

She needed to mourn.

She needed to look after Lulu.

She needed so much, but what she needed most just wasn’t there any more.

She needed them all back…

* * *

 

Lucretia couldn’t believe it. She had them back. She had them all back.

Well. All but two of them. The two who worried her the most. The two who could ruin her entire plan just by  _ remembering. _

Taako was in the Bureau hospital. He’d burned both his feet. A team of Clerics worked around the clock on Superior Restoration while a small boy hardly left his side.

_ His _ small boy.

Lucretia had talked to him, following his inoculation. Got as many facts as she could from the boy. Confirmed a lot of reports.

She hadn’t even guessed that Taako could  _ get _ pregnant. It wasn’t very common amongst the rare few who… shared his condition. Even rarer that they bore a child to term.

_ And this little boy looked so much like Magnus that Taako had to have borne him to term. _

Magnus was… wrecked. A husk. His wife and daughter had perished in Phandalin and…

She hadn’t wanted this.

None of them had wanted this.

Merle was with Magnus and Magnus was on Life Watch. Someone was always on duty. Always keeping him under supervision.

_ It was so very easy to just step off the moon… _

Killian, also watching two ruined men on the first, wobbling baby steps towards recovery, looked at her in horror. “Madam Director, I’m so sorry.”   
“I know,” she said. “You did what you could.”

A couple of rooms over, a machine was helping Boyland breathe. And Carey, Killian’s other obsession, was gaining her agility back after nearly succumbing to a mushroom allergy she hadn’t known she had.

“Doesn’t feel that way.”

“I know,” said Lucretia. It had taken seven highly-trained technicians with long poles a day to get Taako’s pack and the hazard it contained into a vault so protected that none were tempted to retrieve the gauntlet. And even then, it had been a near thing. She had been among them, ready to employ the Bulwark Staff if one of them succumbed.

But another town had died.

Another family had been rent asunder.

_ I’m sorry, Lup. I know you never wanted this. _

There was a frighteningly familiar umbrella, lying next to Taako’s hospital bed. Some had tried to put it in storage, but it somehow found its way back there and hung itself up next to the rather ordinary-looking cane that she knew was both magical and homemade.

Magnus had carved it. Taako had added the rune, the gem, and the silver embellishments. And it had been his casting focus and walking aid since before Angus was born.

She’d known her good plans for him had fucking collapsed, but  _ this _ much?

It had taken years to find him after  _ Sizzle it Up! With Taako _ had vanished off the map. She had made the mistake of thinking the same of Lucre Goldrich as he thought of himself. After that, she had attempted to remedy his situation herself.

And then some idiot got hold of the fucking  _ Oculus. _

Rockport had rebuilt, but Taako and Magnus weren’t there any more.

And now three of her friends had returned. Ruined in more ways than one.

Taako lay mostly motionless with his feet under a protective tent to spare him from further pain. Magnus lay under a cloud of misery.

She’d hurt them all so much.

“Davenport.”

Lucretia almost jumped out of her skin. He took her hand and began to pull her away from her observations and her misery, as if to say, “Come on, kid. There’s work to be done.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes of course.”

She was running this base. There was always work to do.

Reports. Filing. Wages. Arranging amenities. Organising it all.

She couldn’t spend time wishing Taako would heal or Magnus would surface from the pit of his despair.

She might as well wish that the Hunger would starve to death and somehow give them a sign when it did.

Her feet felt like lead as she walked away from three of her dearest friends. Now the only two who were left, were the only two who were the greatest threat of them all.

He could keep the Umbrastaff. Lup would have wanted him to have it.

Probably.


	13. Chapter 13

Angus paused to take a drink of water from the tap. Not a pump. There were no pumps on the moon. Well. Technically there were, but they were not the kind of pumps Angus was used to. There were no wells up here, so the water went around and around in a special system that kept the impurities out and the water more or less in one place. He’d been reading from a library copy of _Caleb Cleveland and the Artful Artificer,_ out loud, because if he was reading, then Apa’s eyes were moving under his lids. And if his eyes were moving then…

_Don’t think about a mile-wide circle of black glass._

If Apa’s eyes were moving then there was a chance…

_Don’t think about why Uncle Magnus is so sad._

He drank some more to try and give some feeling back into his dessicated tongue.

_Don’t think about the boxy shape under the sheet that protected Apa’s legs._

“...take y’r time, hon. Ch’boy’s heard this one…”

Apa had turned his head! And his eyes were open!

“APA!”

“Ssshhh…. It’s a hospital. No shouting in hospitals.”

Angus was sure that crying was allowed in hospitals. People did it all the time.

Apa welcomed him into his arms. Soothing his hair and kissing his brow and managing a weak and stuttering purr. And one of the Clerics who came in to chant came in to stare, and then rush out again. Another Cleric rushed in, and then rushed out.

And someone else brought in Uncle Magnus.

“Hey, thug,” Apa croaked. “What’d I miss?”

Uncle Magnus stared at Apa. Like he stared at everything.

And all the cheer drained out of Apa like water from a pierced skin. He knew. Just like that, he knew.

But Angus had to tell him anyway. “Apa… you an’ me an’ Uncle Magnus an’ Mr Highchurch an’ Miz Killian… we’re the only survivors of Phandalin.”

Denial.

“Horseshit. I hit her with the spell. I saw her grab Lulu and run so I hit her with the spell. She should have…. I hit her with _my_ spell, Mango.... She should have--”

When Uncle Magnus spoke, his voice was rough from disuse. “There was no trace of her, Taako. No trace of anybody. You used your spell on you and her and… _you_ barely made it out.”

“But _I_ have a bum leg! She didn’t. She could have run to Neverwinter! She probably did. Has anyone looked?”

“Apa…” Angus pleaded.

Bargaining.

“Please tell me someone’s looking. How long has it been? How long was I out?”

“Taako, you did your best.”

Guilt.

“I couldn’t have fucked it up… Not that bad. I know I didn’t. _I_ got out, so she should be fine. I put enough oomph into that spell to…. Oh shit. Oh shit, no. Oh fuck.” 

“Taako…”

“Apa…”

“No, no, no. NO! I fucked it up. Magnus don’t you _dare_ try to hug me, I fucking killed her. My stupid fucking untested gods-damned spell must’a… oh gods…” He started crying. Hysterical. “It was me. I fucking killed them with my messed-up fucking homebrew untested spell, it probably smashed her flat on the first rock or tree. Smashed _them_ flat… ohmygods, IfuckingkilledLulu…”

Anger.

Uncle Magnus had enough voice to yell. “No you fucking didn’t! It was that evil gauntlet!”

“DON’T EVEN TRY TO FORGIVE ME, MAGNUS BURNSIDES, MY MESSED-UP MAGIC KILLED YOUR FUCKING FAMILY!”

“LIKE FUCK IT DID!”

“LIKE FUCK IT DIDN’T!”

And that was when a Cleric intervened and cast Calm Emotion on them both. And it was in that panting silence that Angus experienced a moment of clarity. From one of Apa’s desperate utterances.

_She could have run to Neverwinter._

Aunt Julia _could_ have run to Neverwinter.

Had anyone looked?

 _Had_ anyone looked?

Angus stayed by Apa’s side while he got inoculated. Helped explain what had been explained to him. And told Apa that the rest would have to wait for the Director’s attention. Since Apa, Uncle Magnus, and Mr Highchurch all had a job position in the offing.

But first, Apa had to heal.

At which point, the resident chief nerd - an unlikeable greasy dweeb called Lucas, barged in and explained that ‘unfortunately’ the Director was ‘behind the times’ and insisted that Clerics restore Apa’s feet instead of allowing him the ‘honour’ of being the first to try Lucas’ artificial appendages.

Apa told him to screw off and stick his head back up his ass. Preferably in that order.

Angus smiled in spite of the recent dire mood. He had his Apa back.

And now he had a project to occupy himself.

Looking for any trace of Aunt Julia. Beginning in Neverwinter. Or, to be more precise, in the Neverwinter newspapers.

* * *

 

Good news, terrible news, mildly horrible news…

Good news. He was on the mend enough to undergo this fucking test.

Terrible news. He’d fucking killed Juju and Lulu and everyone knew it.

Mildly horrible news, he’d just been smacked across the room and he felt his cane break. He was down one spellcasting focus _and_ down to zero hit points.

Fuck.

Well, he deserved it.

_Sorry Ango. Maybe having the lug for a dad would be a better idea for you._

Something in his pack shook as one of the alleged cleric’s healing pots hit him. He got just enough juice back to watch the umbrella fucking vore his cane, and then fall with its handle into his hand.

Hazelwood handle. Silver embellishments. And now there was a running figure sigil on the previously blank handle.

It was magical enough if it fucking vored his cane. He aimed it at the fighting ogres and thought, _Fireball._

The umbrella was glad to comply.

Oh yes. Taako was cooking. And Ogre was on the menu.

He used the umbrella as a cane more out of ingrained habit than any pain in his limbs. There was still the occasional twinge when he was stressed -and, boy, was he stressed now- but all the Clerics assured him that it was _phantom pain,_ whatever that meant, and would go away as soon as his body understood the news that he wasn’t hurting any more.

Odd that this weird thing he got off a corpse in a cave felt more natural to work with than any other wand or staff or cane he could find, steal, or make. It was almost like holding a missing piece of himself in his right hand.

Priorities.

Get the gems. Don’t die.

_Don’t think about Ango watching all this from above._

He had more move points. He could use them to pick a pocket.

_Don’t think about his accidental betrayal of Mango._

This would be the largest mark he ever lifted.

_And if he died from his own horrible spell…_

He activated it.

The world slowed down.

Zip up. Check pocket one. Nothing. Check pocket two. Yes! Zip away.

Okay. The umbrella transformed the spells it vored. Nice to know. Also, no proof for him that his spell had or had not fucked up to a fatal degree.

Fuck.

Now Merle had more potions to shoot at people.

And he had an enraged Ogre on his ass.

_Feet, don’t fail me now._

And Mango didn’t fail him, either. Literally disarming the automatons so he could focus on protecting his friends. That man was like a big, stupid Labrador. Ready to forgive anything for a pat and a scratch.

When it was over, and they survived, he put a hand on his shoulder and said, “You know I don’t deserve someone like you as a friend, right?”

And Mango pulled him into a hug anyway. “It’s okay, Taako. It can’t be your fault.”

And the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet was gone, and they had a job. And he had a place, and Mango had a dorm with Merle and some guy named Pringles and…

He didn’t deserve any of it.

He’d killed two people he loved.

Taako kept moving forward because it was better than looking back. Kept up the routines because it was better than thinking about what he’d done. He loved Ango because he couldn’t not love him, but he feared losing the love of his boy because of what happened to Lulu.

What he’d done to Lulu.

He’d confessed it so many times. Said it so often. Sooner or later. Some impending tomorrow, it would all sink in.

And his baby. His beautiful magic boy. His reason for getting out of bed in the mornings when it all felt so hopeless. His perfect child… would hate him.

So Taako walked on eggshells around his little man. Cooking up all his favourites. Trying to support him in his current -fruitless?- endeavour of scouring fucking five billion newspapers for any hint that his Apa hadn’t fucked up as bad as Taako knew he had.

Angus’ tired sigh hurt his heart. “It’s not five billion, it’s only five hundred. It’s a much more manageable number. I can read pretty fast, now.”

But there were still twenty more every day. His boy was catching up, but it still felt like the augean stables.

“Need more brain food cookies? A juice box? Some milk? A-a-a-a small beer?”

Angus smiled. His first real smile since Taako had woken up on a hospital bed on the moon. “There’s no need to fuss, Apa. I’ve found some evidence.”

It was a very small entry in the CQD section of the personal adds. Paid for by the word.

_Recent widow, single mother, needs home. Skilled in blacksmithy, can work. Reply by this paper._

Taako leaned on the Umbrastaff. “It… it might not be her, pumpkin…”

“Statistically speaking, it’s more likely than unlikely.” He lifted his glasses to peer myopically at the super-fine print and take some notes. Taako was dimly aware that the newspapers put identifying codes on personals for tracking and billing purposes. He was more aware that his baby was grasping at straws. “I mean… how many lady blacksmiths could there be who believe they lost their husbands in the same time that Phandalin died?”

Well… when he put it _that_ way…

* * *

 

“Pardon, me, ma’am, do you have a moment?”

Lucretia looked up from the eternal paperwork, initially puzzled to find no-one there.

“I understand if you’re busy, ma’am,” said a feather that peeked over a pile of expense reports.

Lucretia moved the pile to see half the face of Angus Taakoson dawning over the edge of her desk. _My Gods. He’s smaller than Davenport._ If she ever got her hands on the Temporal Chalice, her temptation would be to go back in time and stop that asshole Sazed from poisoning Taako. But what else might change because of it?

“Is there something you need?”

“Yes’m, thank you, ma’am. May I come to your side of the desk?”

How had _Taako’s_ kid learned to be so polite? “Most people climb on it, sit on it, and on one occasion, someone threw it,” she said, recalling one of Killian’s more interesting temper tantrums. “Having someone come around it will be a refreshing change. Thank you. Pull up a pile of paperwork and make yourself comfortable.”

“I’d rather not, thank you all the same, ma’am.” He had a Manilla folder with some papers in it. And he’d carefully labelled it like so many other folders in the immense filing system of the Bureau. “I… I might have a mission proposal for you, ma’am? A- a- a- a mission… for… well, for me, please.”

 _My heart hurts._ “Master Taakoson, I know your… Apa… is one of our reclaimers, but Seekers like you don’t have to go out into the field and endanger themselves…” _Especially Seekers like you. Taako’s lost enough. I don’t want to put his son in peril, too._

“This shouldn’t be that dangerous, ma’am. And Apa’s been teaching me to fend for myself since I was little. Littler.”

 _Ouch._ “Don’t… Don’t put yourself down…”

“I know I’m short for my age, ma’am, it’s… mostly okay.” His ears broadcast the lie by telegraphing how much it wasn’t okay. He cleared his throat. “Back to the point. Um. I have reason to believe that Julia and Lucinda Burnsides may have survived.” He peeled out some pages. Evidence. Copied faithfully with the help of a Magic Marker. “It’s surprising that I found five potential persons of interest, both in the Rockport and the Neverwinter newspapers. I… I thought it would be prudent to search anywhere that Au-- that Julia Burnsides might feel… closer… to those she believes she’s lost.”

 _He’s almost eleven years old,_ she reminded herself. _He thinks he has to present as a professional._ Lucretia took the evidence and studied it. Assessed it. These were… these weren’t straws for a drowning man. These were very likely-looking leads. In the correct time window. In the proper place. Using the correct budget. Taako hadn’t been bragging when he said that this child was the best detective in the world.

Three potential Julias in Rockport. Two in Neverwinter.

“You have a cover story?”

“Better, ma’am. I have a cover _case.”_ Another piece of paper emerged. This time from a City Watch circular. Concerning the public habits and pattern of a criminal dubbed The Rockport Slayer. “This is exactly the sort of thing I’d help the City Watch with when I was still going to school, ma’am.”

Lucretia would not believe for an instant that Taako would just _let_ his only son investigate serial killers.

Angus must have read her look because he said, “Apa -I mean Taako- always made certain I had some muscle to keep me safe, be it Unc-- Mr Burnsides or himself or one or more of the City Watch. Since I’m working for you, now, might I suggest you pick a team that doesn’t include Mr Burnsides? I don’t want to get his hopes up if this turns out to be a wash.”

 _I wouldn’t either._ “I understand completely.” She needed a team already invested in helping Angus. Some people who would most definitely keep a watchful eye on this tiny, tiny child. Who had she seen him with, besides the team she knew during a forgotten century as tres horny boys?

This was where her eidetic memory came in handy. Recalling with vivid accuracy all the moments she’d seen Angus with anyone or heard anyone talking about him.

Angus spent some quality time with Davenport, continuing half a conversation with the monoverbal gnome and winkling her ex-captain out of his defensive shell. Angus may be good for Davenport, but her Captain wasn’t… that great… in unexpected situations any more. No. Davenport had to stay close to her.

Johann and Angus had been bonding over music and the downer Bard had been showing Angus how to transcribe his compositions from memory. But Johann was a non-combatant and more important as one of Fisher’s… keepers.

Carey had been showing Angus a few moves in the icosagon, showing him how to beat up, or at least subdue, someone multiple times his size. And Killian seemed to be happy enough to be Carey’s subject in that matter. Which meant two out of three members of Team Sweet Flips may be amenable…

She turned on her fantasy PA system. “Team Sweet Flips, please report to the Director’s Office.”

“Really?” Angus was vibrating with excitement. “I get all of Team Sweet Flips working with me? I mean. I’m not a fan of Boyland’s cigars, but--” He stopped. Cleared his throat. “We’ve been training together, and I think they’d provide an excellent support structure.”

Lucretia took a deep breath. “Angus. You’re ten. You’re allowed to state things in a… more youthful way. I would never underestimate you.”

“Apa keeps saying the same thing,” he muttered.

Taako, whose childhood had ended at the age of twelve. Criminally young for an Elf. Taako, who insisted that his baby learn to defend himself and fend for himself as soon as possible.

_Taako, who had been born during the Xenophobia wars and thought survival lessons from birth were normal._

And in this case, he wasn’t wrong. “Your Apa’s very right about certain things.” Except this paperwork. He’d filled in a good ninety percent of it with goofs. “And in others, he needs a good kicking…”

Team Sweet Flips arrived, all wearing their _Are we in trouble?_ faces. Lucretia put on her gravitas and neatly outlined Angus’ mission. Always naming him as ‘Master Taakoson’ whenever she referred to him, and pretending not to be growing fond of him as the boy almost glowed with pride.

It shouldn’t be too much trouble for three adults and a child genius to track down a serial killer, one woman, and her daughter.

And then Lucretia remembered whose son he was and almost kicked herself for thinking those words in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Lingo Lesson: "Small beer" is not alcoholic, but rather a brewed soft drink like ginger ale or root beer. In the bad old days before water treatment and pasteurisation, small beers were a much safer beverage option, especially for children.
> 
> CQD is the forerunner of SOS and stands for, "Come Quickly, Distress."
> 
> ::Insert "The More You Know" GIF::


	14. Chapter 14

The best that Angus could say about this fiasco was that none of the really horrible parts were in any way his fault. Carey was the one who decided to pretend to be his Nanny. Killian could not pass as anything else but his bodyguard and Boyland… scrubbed up nicely enough to pass as some kind of tutor.

So far, so good.

Except Boyland had insisted in smoking in a non-smoking zone, after passing a parcel on to Carey who succeeded her deception roll in getting something valuable the heck away from local government property.

He was now in a watch guardhouse and denying everything, waiting for the Bureau representatives to come and bail him out.

They had some pretty interesting silver cutlery, the ghost of a cover story, and a ticket on the Rockport Express.

None of the potential Julias in Rockport had been his Aunt. At least Apa had taught him how to weave a plausible story. Recent wars and lost relatives were an easy thing for strangers to believe.

And now, thanks to Carey’s disguise abilities, he was now a fancy lad entering the train and trusting the stolen cutlery to the staff. He had a special note that allowed him to carry a small crossbow on the train. After that, it was simply a matter of watching everyone else who was on board.

He picked a nice seat and Killian occupied a corner to watch over the entire carriage. Just like a bodyguard would.

Carey, disguised as a Nanny, pretended to knit. She had to learn how to knit properly. If anyone rolled more than a twelve on their perception check would notice that Carey’s needles and her knitting were nothing more than a prop.

Fortunately for her, nobody else was running perception check on a Nanny with her fancy lad.

Angus opened the Book of Interception as a means of concealment. All he had to do was watch carefully and see what happened. Any security system as complicated as this one seemed to be impenetrable. But Apa always said that impenetrable systems got penetrated all the time.

If anyone was twiddling the system, it was likely an employee. Therefore Angus kept a wary eye on all the employees. All while rolling high Deception checks.

And, just before the train was about to take off, three more passengers came on board.

_ Oh dear. This is why Madame Director should co-ordinate teams. _ He leaned over to Carey. “I thought Leeman Kessler was supposed to be on this train,” he whispered.

“He was,” Carey whispered back. “There must’a been some kind‘a SNAFU…”

Apa spotted him. Angus saw the gears tick over. He came up with a story where Angus could fill in the blanks.

He spread his arms wide and did everything he could to come over like a pure sleazeball. “My boy,” he cooed. “What a small world it must be for me to see you after  _ so _ long.” Everything in his posture and attitude screamed,  _ I am a thoroughly untrustworthy person. _

Angus fed him some nested information. “Mama said I should never talk to you again, and it’s only been two months.”

“Two months? Really? It seems like forever since I last saw you. I bought your uncles if you need an interpreter.”

“Mama’s not that fond of  _ them, _ either.”

Apa shrugged. “Not my fault. I just want to spend a few moments with my baby boy.”

“You should have thought about that before running off with Madame’s gold,” sniped Carey, getting into the improv. “Now we have to go begging from his grandfather.”

“Selling the silverware to grandpa, huh?”

“It’s a loan,” Carey iced. “Not that you ever cared.”

“Listen,” Apa said. “I have a plan. It’s going to pay off. All I have to do is get to Neverwinter, and then… then I have an  _ in.” _ He flashed his eyes. “On an inn.”

“We’ve all heard enough of your get rich quick schemes,” Angus sighed.

Apa switched to  _ Us _ and leaned over to murmur,  _ “Angel, darling, what the flying hell is going on?” _

_ “I’m moonlighting, Apa. Don’t tell Uncle Magnus, but I had some leads on finding Aunt Julia.” _

Apa looked shocked.  _ “You think she survived?” _

Angus nodded.  _ “In the meantime, I’m working on a case from the Rockport City Watch as a cover. And a chance to get paid twice.” _

Apa grinned and cheered,  _ “That’s my beautiful magic boy…” _

Angus gestured the other two over and fell to murmuring whilst acting as if he was telling them off. “I’m on the trail of a murderer that the papers call the Rockport Slayer…”

* * *

 

Julia grumbled under her breath. Lulu was sick enough to not be welcome at the school, but well enough to bounce around her workplace. Which meant, instead of being an intimidating force of nature and font of information for random travellers, she was roaming the greater rail yards and seeing off any vagrants, thieves, hobos, or any other kind of ne’er-do-wells.

She ignored the passing of the trains, keeping Lulu close as they went to and fro. She almost ignored when one went vanishing into the Neverwinter gateway. She did not ignore the bodies tumbling out of the train. Especially the small boy shrouded in a shield spell. Because he came rocketing towards her. She almost dropped Lulu in the act of catching him.

“Angus?”

He was positively overjoyed. “Aunt Julia!”

Lulu was pointing, “Mama, there’s a man lyin’ by the tracks and he looks like Daddy!”

And since he was lying very still, her first assumption was that this was yet another drunk who’d fallen out of a freight carriage. She had a kid in each arm and one of them had shocked her so much that she was running on automatic until her brain caught up with the chain of events. Thus it was that she stomped all the way to the love of her life, her better half, her husband and father of her child muttering, “Fuckin’ drunks, I swear to the Gods, if this one’s shat his pants, I’ll—“

She turned him over, and it was just like the day they first met. Only this time, he was making his death saving throws.

There was no other way to react.

“MAGNUS FUCKING BURNSIDES!”

”Augh!” He jumped, scared back to having one hit point. He stared up at her, stunned. “I died, right? I died and this is heaven.”

“You do  _ not _ get to use that line on me twice,” she argued, putting her kid and the other one down so she could pick him up and shake him. “If you weren’t nearly dead, I’d kill you for making me think you  _ had _ died!” And then she held him tight in her arms, not knowing whether to laugh or cry and winding up doing both.

In her arms, feet dangling above the ground, Magnus said, “Julia,” as if he were reciting the world’s most evocative poem. And warm moisture spilled from his eyes and into her uniform. Lulu and Angus were capering about, spinning around each other and laughing and jumping with joy.

Somewhere in the periphery, Taako was crowing about his fucking genius son like the showy cockerel he truly was.

Julia didn’t care about any of that. Her lovely, loving husband was  _ alive. _

Alive and whole and reeking like he’d ploughed through a swamp and then nearly got burned alive.

“Hey,” he said.

“Mm-hm?”

“I never knew my middle name was ‘fucking’.”

Good Gods, it felt good to hear one of his silly goofs again.

* * *

 

Lucretia’s first thought was not,  _ Yep. This is what I should have expected from Taako’s kid. _ Nor was it,  _ Wow, he was right about everything. _

It was:  _ Holy fucking shitballs, those kids could be twins. _

The other thoughts did follow soon after, but they weren’t the first thing through Lucretia’s mind.

Lucinda, nicknamed Lulu since five seconds after Taako met her, looked amazingly like Angus. They were even roughly the same height.

She lacked Angus’ vitiligo pattern.

He had a darker hue of hair than her russet-chestnut.

And, of course, there remained the fact that Angus was half-Elven and Lucinda was pure Human.

It was an effort of will to remind herself that these kids were born a year apart. To different… gestating parties. This family group didn’t see the similarities because they had seen the differences first.

“We… don’t usually permit families on the moon,” she announced out loud, not saying so very many things. “But since I’ve made an exception for one Reclaimer, I can make the same allowance for another. Merle… just checking. You don’t happen to have a family stashed anywhere, do you? Sons or daughters or both?”

“There’s enough damn kids on the moon as it is,” he grumped. Not exactly answering.

She let it lie.

Lucretia seriously couldn’t expect those three to remain celibate for an entire decade. Not one of them could remain celibate for a fucking  _ year. _ There were numerous reasons why the group got nicknamed  _ Tres Horny Boys _ before they saddled themselves with it all over again.

They didn’t remember. She knew this for a fact. They couldn’t remember. And yet… little slices of a past only she recalled kept surfacing.

Lucretia shuffled papers. She didn’t really need to look things up, but it felt better to have a reason to pause. “There is an opening… a suite with a shared common room. I’ll make sure it’s clean and the two families can… return to a shared arrangement. Merle… there’s one extra bedroom.”

“Yeah, someone needs to keep an eye on these chucklefucks,” he grumbled.

In reality, she had commissioned these suites in case Maureen Miller changed her mind about becoming a member of the Bureau. They had remained vacant and their intended recipient would never set foot in them, now. Not after the accident that took her life.

“It will take less than a week to be certain it’s ready for you,” she said, “In the meantime, the Burnsides can occupy the flat opposite Taako’s. It shouldn’t be much of an inconvenience…”

“Don’t knock if there’s a sock on the door,” said Magnus.

_ Except to everyone else in the immediate area, _ thought Lucretia.

* * *

 

Lup had figured it out the instant she perceived the Voidfish. Of course Luce had had to use Fisher for this plan of hers. Of course she was rounding up the Artifacts they’d made. Of course she was gathering power so she could… shield an entire plane.

_ Damnit, Luce. We told you this wouldn’t work and we told you why this wouldn’t work. Pay a-fucking-tention! _

Her brother had drank Fisher’s ichor. He should have been able to remember her.

_ Unless there was a second Voidfish… _

Oh snap.

That would just fuck up everything. Luce could control what those horny boys remembered and what they forgot. Which was dangerous because she could fucking  _ see _ how damaged they were from Luce’s surgical Swiss-cheesing.

_ My brother is hurting and he doesn't even know how bad it is. _

The other surprise news in her unlife was Angus. Her brother had a son. She had a nephew. And he was somehow three times as clever as her dumb baby brother.

She and Barry had almost…

Oh shit.

Now that Mango’s kid was around, she could see it. She and her brother had managed to get pregnant at the same time. Just like all the other important things in their lives, they had to do that one together.

Except… where was Ango’s twin?

Had something gone wrong with utter generations of twin genes?

Or had something bad happened when she wasn't there to help him?

Eleven years was a long time. Anything could have happened. All  _ kinds _ of bad shit always happened to Koko whenever she left him alone. She should have known. She should have brought him with her on her mad plan.

She should have…

She should have never left.

Nothing to be done about it now.

_ Now _ she had to figure out how the fuck to get out of her own magical weapon. How to let people know she was here. How to… how to fix this.

Luce was going the wrong way, using the wrong plan. Koko was an amnesiac, so was everyone else except Luce. Lup had no fucking idea what had happened to her Captain, but she could bet that Luce had screwed up, big time.

And where the  _ fuck _ was Barold?

There was so much wrong with this picture, it was enough to make her believe she’d finally slipped all of her cogs.

There was one hope, though. Angus had somehow picked up  _ her _ genius genes. Which meant there was a chance she could get something through to  _ him. _

Except she had no idea what kind of message could even get through. The kid literally had no idea who she was.

All she could really do was keep looking after her dumb baby brother. And protecting her nephew. And watching and listening and trying to come up with a plan. Any kind of plan.

She wasn’t good at that part. She was more of a ‘burn first, ask questions later’ kind of girl.

And she couldn’t burn her way out of this one.

Not… Not easily, anyway.

Taako’s cane had helped a lot. So had Wankins’ wand. Lup was more… herself… with every influx of power. She could watch easier now. Focus better. And when the next victory came with an Arcane Core… she almost burst out of the Umbrastaff all by herself.

Barry had told her that she’d over-engineered it. And he’d been right. If she ever got out of this mess, she’d have to tell him that. And then gently roast him for not convincing her to ease off for a change.

Wait!

Wait! She knew that robe! She knew that son of a lich!

Barry was okay! Sure he was dead, but he was okay! And he was trying to tell those horny boys without using all the words because…

Shit.

He had to know about the other Voidfish.

Lup forgot where she was for a moment and tried to shout. She shook the curtains. But she had no real voice. No real form.

Not in here.

But if Barold knew about the Voidfish, he had to know where Luce was hiding it.

Which meant he had to have a way to sneak up onto the moon.

Which meant  _ she _ had to leave a message.

Let him know she still existed.

Somehow.


	15. Chapter 15

“You know how to watch magic, Ango. Lulu… you’re just starting to get the sense of it, so pay attention, huh? Open yourself up to the vibe of the universe. Like I showed you.” Taako waited for Lulu to run through exercises that she hadn’t done in months. She was shaky from lack of practice, but she got it.

“Now this one is Ray of Frost,” he walked them both through the basic forms and the pronunciation of the magic words, before aiming his Umbrastaff at the luckless dummy in the quad and channeling his energies from his body and spirit along the Hazelwood and out according to his will.

What came out was not Ray of Frost.

It was Scorching Ray, and the Umbrastaff cast it three times while it moved on its own.

Burning three letters into the greensward.

L-U-P.

The force of it almost knocked him on his ass.

“That wasn’t Ray of Frost, Unka Ko,” said Lulu.

“Yeah, no shit,” he murmured. Turning the Umbrastaff about and trying to diagnose it. He rolled a one. “Sometimes, this thing has a life of its own. Okay. New lesson. Lulu. Try using Prestidigitation to snuff out some of those flames.”

Lulu nodded and did a picture perfect Prestidigitation, and as well as sparks flying out of her fingertips, illusory, palm-sized fairies danced around, pretending to put out flame after flame.

Taako couldn’t help but giggle. “I see you’ve been practising  _ that _ one.”

“It’s good against monsters in the night. And I can make my bedroom wall look like a big, glowy bodyguard so’s the things under my bed don’t get me.”

Couldn’t argue with logic like that. And it was a combination night light  _ and _ personal security measure.

“Sound move,” said Taako. “You know, some time in the future, the monsters under your bed are just gonna give up on trying to scare you in the night. Then you can use Prestidigitation for other things. Incredibly useful things, silly things. There’s few real limits on that one. Most useful cantrip in the book.”

Madam Director appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. “Whilst I understand that some training happens in this area, I have to ask,” she gestured at the smouldering letters. “What the actual fuck, Taako?”

“You remember how I told you that this thing was a little bit alive?” said Taako. “I was honestly gonna teach the kids Ray of Frost, but ironically, the Umbrastaff decided that Scorching Ray was cooler.”

She glared at the letters. “L-U-P? What kind of message is L-U-P?”

“Beats the fuck outta me, Madarm.”

Ango was already taking notes.

“It’s not me,” said Lulu. “My name’s Lucinda.” She started skipping and making up a rhyme. “L-U-P, fire letters I see. It’s a mys-ter-y for you and me. How to say it, I am stuck. Does it rhyme with hoop or does it rhyme with up?”

“Very good, sweetie,” said Taako automatically. “I hadn’t even thought of alternate pronunciations.”

Ango was extremely busy taking notes, now. “It could be Elven,” he said. “They have alternate pronunciations from interesting spelling.”

“Case in point,” said Taako. “That’s why we’re magic. We’re willing to get experimental with spelling.”

And then he cackled as everyone around him groaned at the pun.

* * *

 

This was the third time he had had to stop Stella from sneaking along on this mission. Kravitz rolled high on Perception and caught her before he could tear open a portal. He whirled and caught her shoulder. “I know you know this is dangerous,” he said. “There’s some dangerous criminals in this area. And there’s a Relic in play. You know what that can do to us if we manifest our physical bodies.”

“I can make a golem, can’t I?” Stella protested. “Or I could haunt one of those robots. I can do this.”

“You’re  _ eleven. _ Being able to do this is not the point. Keeping you safe is. You have ten more years before you can begin your duties. I know you’re eager. I know you’re smart. I know that you are very, very capable. But you are also eleven. The Raven Queen says you can’t go into dangerous situations. She’d penalise us both if you went and something happened to you.”

“I just want to see how it’s done,” she grumbled. “I wanna see how  _ you _ do it.”

Kravitz kissed his little sister on her forehead. The way things had gone, he was practically her dad, anyway. “You can watch, but if you set one spectral atom of yourself in this part of the Prime Material Plane, I will rat you out at the first opportunity. Got it?”

She grinned. “Got it.”

He tore open a portal to the living world and abandoned a physical form. Gathering up local material to form a golem from the crystals covering everything in the immediate area. Where three goofballs in red-ish protective suits stood and watched it all.

There was something about these mortals that wasn’t limited to the beauty of the Elf in their midst. There was something… undead.

A lich!

There was a lich in this mess!

And… more.

“Hail and well met,” said the Elf, putting on a friendly face. “My name’s Taako and you look like you’re made of salt.”

He had died. Multiple times. Died and never entered the Astral Plane. He was not a lich, but something… something near him was. He just… he couldn’t find it.

The human nearby was another. Dead but not gone, and somehow alive. A clear violation of the Queen’s laws.

And the Dwarf…

There was only one entry in the Book of Undead with such a high death count. Merle fucking Highchurch. The third-largest bounty in all the entries he knew.

“YOU!”

If he could bring them all in, he could be rolling in it for years.

* * *

 

_ Fuck, _ thought Lup, doing her best to not emit any power or let herself be known inside her Umbrastaff.  _ That’s a Reaper. That’s the grim fucking reaper, Koko. Don’t even try to do anything flashy, I’m playing possum, here. _

Not that it mattered. Koko couldn’t hear her and there was a high chance of him not listening even if he could. He had no memory of her and that hurt. Even if she could get through to him, there was more than a chance that he couldn’t understand her anyway.

And of course her idiot baby brother had to flash around the magic anyway. Do all the high-level shit anyway.

And then…

“Yo thug! What’s your name? I’m ‘bout to tentacle your dick!”

_ Fucking hell, Koko… _

She let the power flow through, of course. She couldn’t not help her brother. But gods damn it, he had lost a lot of his smarts when Luce erased half his life.

It came to a head in a room full of mirrors to other planes of reality. Where a retrieved ghost was the instrument of something called Legion.

Where her dumb baby brother insisted on literally flirting with Death.

“I must say: if you wanted to lure me in there, you should’a stayed handsome, my fella.”

_ Fucking… Koko can you not be that massively gay for five consecutive seconds? Keep it in your pants, for fuck’s sake. That’s how you got pregnant in the first place. _

Well. Probably not. They’d likely conceived when she was with Barold before everything went to shit. And Maggie always  _ was _ Taako’s go-to boy toy during their century of running.

Taako was usually so cagey about flirting with anyone. This guy had to be some other level of hottie to get a line like that. Either that or Taako was lonelier than she thought.

She got a look at the Reaper’s fleshy self.

Yup.

Exactly the kind of hot that Taako was heavy into. Cheekbones you could carve a pumpkin with. Sartorial grace. Pretty cut, too. Nice dress sense. And just the right amount of nerd vibes pouring off him to make him adorkable.

The only downside was the whole Emissary of Death thing and -oh- out to kill him for a bounty.

_ That’s my bro-bro. He sure can pick ‘em. _

* * *

 

Angus hadn’t seen his Apa this happy since the  _ Slice of Taako _ days. He had a smile, a genuine smile on his face. He’d taken care to dress up and look after his look. He was even singing.

Sure, there was clay on his cheek, now. And he was more than a little bit tipsy. And his hair had done its party trick of curling and uncurling depending on Apa’s stress levels.

But… he was  _ happy. _

“Well, I don’t have a name for it,” he crooned, attempting to walk in a straight line. And rolling ones. “Been tryin’a find a name for it… I don’t think there’s a name for it… but it’s kind’a like bein’ in love…” Apa spotted him. “Hey, baby. There’s my beautiful baby boy. I tole you not to stay up for me.”

“I cat-napped, Apa. How did it go?”

“The date? Pretty nice. He’s got… cold hands. Gorgeous lips. I could watch him talk all night. And he’s cute… and adorkable. And we got a pardon for the whole Refuge mess. I did Istus a solid. Who knew?”

Angus waited for the other shoe to drop. “What’s the snag, Apa?”

Deep breath. Long sigh. “My fuckin’ Umbrastaff tried t’ kill him. ‘S what I call a major league fly in the ointment. Th’ moth in the gravy. He’s never, ever… nevereverever… never gonna call. ‘Cause y’r Apa’s a drunk loser who can’t--”

Apa’s Stone of Farspeech went off. Scaring the beans out of him.

There was a mad scramble for the thing. Angus trying to get it. Apa trying to get it. Both of them dropping or fumbling or chasing after it until Apa got it and urgently shushed Angus so he could pretend to be smooth.

“You have the honour of speaking to Taako, you know, from TV. My time is worth its weight in gold.”

Angus mouthed,  _ Really? _ to his Apa.

Apa made ‘quiet down’ motions despite the absence of sound.

“Um. Hi. It’s -uh- It’s Kravitz.”

Angus mouthed,  _ What happened to his accent? _

“Well, hello there, bone daddy…” Apa smoothed, the complete opposite of his panicked,  _ Quit it! _ motions. “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh? I completely understand. Ch’boy’s an experience to treasure.”

“Actually, I was… I was a little bit worried about you. You… kind’a spaced out there.”

Angus mouthed,  _ He cares! He really cares about you, Apa. _

Taako mouthed,  _ I fucking know, genius. _ And said, “Yeah. I did. It’s… I was trying to help you out there, homie. I couldn’t figure out where the lich you sensed was, so… I gotta confess. I’m a little bit stupid, sometimes.”

Angus mouthed,  _ What the fuck? _

“Like. I knew it wasn’t the gum, but when I get a problem I can’t figure out, I just… go through every alternative, y’know? Hope that wasn’t a dealbreaker.” He mouthed,  _ Shut up. I was dumb, okay? _

“Absolutely not. Um. So. I was thinking…”

“Always a good start.”

Angus was now trying to fight for the Stone, but Apa had longer limbs and a higher Dex score.

“There’s a recital of one of my favourite concertos in the Neverwinter Opera House next Tuesday?” A muffled and urgent,  _ Get off… _ “Um. If you don’t get any missions? Um.” Muffled and whispered,  _ Let go of that! _ “And… there’s a restaurant around the corner that’s--”  _ Damnit, Stella… _ “It’s kind’a new?”

“Who’s Stella?”

_ Shit, _ was his muffled whisper.  _ Now look what you’ve done. _ “It’s… complicated. Um. The Raven Queen… adopts a lot of dead kids. Stella’s… Officially, she’s another little sister, but… I’ve been involved with her… uh… progress? Let’s go with that. I’ve been involved with her progress so much that… Well…”

A piping young voice shouted, “He’s like my dad!”

Kravitz’s voice said, “Fuuuuuck…”

“You’ve already met Ango at hammer-point,” said Taako. “Guess being single dads is one thing we got in common, huh? Say ‘hi’, Angel.”

Angus said, “Hello, sir. Hi, miss Stella.”

“Hi, Angus. Believe it or not, we met before. It was…” Stella paused. “Do I tell him?”

“I think things that complicate things are more… after the third date material,” allowed Kravitz. “Let’s just leave it as… you were stillborn, and that’s that.”

“Oh, sir. You shouldn’t give me a mystery like that. I’ll have to find out, now.”

Apa smiled in that proud parental way. “You want complicated? You should hear about how I got my baby Angel.”

“Third date,” said Kravitz. “Or fourth. I won’t push.”

“Mine’ll figure out your story after a cursory glance,” boasted Apa. “World’s greatest detective, y’know.”

“Mine’s champing at the bit to start her official duties,” said Kravitz. “She’s already helped me track and locate several liches.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should bring her to the moon, sometime.”

“Third date’s meet the family,” Apa decided. “We can have a weird-off over a nice, home-cooked dinner or something.”

Angus could  _ hear _ the dopey smile growing on Kravitz’ face. “A home-cooked dinner already sounds perfect. I’d love to get there.”

“Fingers crossed for next Tuesday, then,” Apa had his own dopey smile.

He’d not admit it out loud for another month? But he was very clearly falling in love.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Offensensitivity warning for bad partner choices mentioned in the last section of this chapter.

Stella decided not to tell her Brother/Dad that he was smouldering. Love did that to Reapers. It warmed them up and it showed rather blatantly in the cool chill of the Astral Plane. Kravitz was currently in a daze and completely unaware that he had lipstick smeared across his face or that his clothes were rumpled.

Or that his hair was askew or that he had an indomitable grin battling with a pleasantly blitzed look on his face. Or that there were little colourful flames issuing from his nose and mouth whenever he breathed out.

_ He’s so badly in love, it’s embarrassing, _ she thought. And decided to taunt him. “How’d it go?” she asked.

“We’re going on a third date, next week,” he said, not even seeing the flames. His eyes could only see the future through rose-tinted glasses. “You can meet him. He’s so… He’s like… So very alive. So in the moment. He’s fearless. He’s strong. And yet he’s so vulnerable and scared at the same time. He’s… he’s complex and lovely and…” Kravitz sighed. If it weren’t for the magic of the Astral Plane, he would have set several draperies on fire. “He makes me feel alive.”

Since Kravitz had been dead for some thousands of years, that had to be one impressive dude.

“So. When are we telling him about his surprise daughter?” she asked.

“Um,” and just like that, his flames snuffed out. “Probably around dessert. We don’t want to start off with the heavy stuff. Even if we are having a weird-off.”

“Don’t want to win on the first round?” she teased.

“Don’t want things to get… awkward. Before we have a chance.”

Stella stopped feeling so smug. Kravitz had been happy, and now she’d ruined it by being something of an asshole. She’d liked seeing him happy, and figured that having the potential for two dads had to be worth it somehow. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll tone it down and keep it… delicate. But if you two french in front of us, all bets are off.”

Kravitz could only laugh at that. “I’ll try to keep that in mind, but… Those lips of his are downright irresistible. I might not be able to stop myself smooching up a storm.”

Stella winced. “Gross.”

“One day, you may not mind so much.”

“Kissing is  _ gross.” _ Stella faked vomiting. “Can we just get on with some reaper lessons? Aren’t there some low grade fools I can practice my trouncing on?”

“Not today, Starlight.” And for the first time in centuries, he picked up his instrument. Ran a few chords. It was tuned, of course. All material goods in the Astral Plane were eternally in perfect working condition. “I’d much rather compose something about how much in  _ looove _ with Taako I am.”

“GROSS!”

He plucked out a tune and began to sing, “I’ve longed to taste a summer wine, your lips are sweeter ‘n’ much more fine…”

Stella ran for their Queen. “Mo-o-o-om, Kravitz is being gross! Make him stop!”

* * *

 

The cake was a work of art, and almost obscene if one knew the story. A three tier creation of pink sugar crystals and dark fondant tentacles surrounding a mirror-like gelatin plate of blue in the centre.

“What flavour is it, Apa?”

“Dark chocolate and blood orange. I added notes of lemon in the fondant to lighten it up a little. Did I overdo it?”

Telling him ‘yes’ would likely send him into obsessive do-overs and the kitchen had suffered a slow explosion of hyperactive creativity already.

The end result was… careful. Like he always started in anyplace new. The bland stuff. The vanilla. The tea cakes and chocolate muffins. And, in this case, roast hogget with rosemary, seasonal vegetables, and gravy. Cooked because it was what everyone liked. All carefully segregated. There were already enough cookies, crullers, and muffins to feed the moon.

And, lurking under covers, a chicken, a goose, and a pheasant, all stuffed and roasted to perfection. Gleaming under glazes like edible jewellery. Angus also spied a large section of roast beef and a ham, lurking behind an enormous turkey.

“I think it’s time for tools-down, Apa,” he said. “Everything’s perfect.”

“Everything’s  _ bland, _ boyo. Everything’s  _ normal. _ Do you think he wants  _ normal _ out of me? What was I thinking? I need to get my hands on some dire slug and start over with the forest mushrooms and--”

Angus stood on tip-toes to stem Apa’s panic by putting his finger to Apa’s lips. “You need to change out of your kitchen stuff and do your hair, Apa. It’s almost time. I can finish up the sauces, no problem.”

Another type of panic hit him. “Fuck!” He threw a random handful of tools into the sink. “Thanks, baby. You’re an angel.”

“I know it,” he breezed. Angus focussed on the sauces, getting each of them to their final state while Apa had an audible meltdown in his bedroom.

Uncle Magnus poked his head into the little flat. “I smell a cook-off. What’s the occasion?”

“Apa’s having the third date.”   


“Oh… Nice. So it’s meet the family and dish the big secrets time. Can I call dibs on any leftovers?”

A distant shout of, “Tell Mango to fuck off, he gets the leftovers tomorrow!”

“Not even a turkey leg?” Uncle Magnus called.

“I swear to the gods, if I ruin my eyeliner…”

“Right. Fuckin’ off. But if I hear dishes breaking, I’m rushing in.” He ruffled Angus’ hair and stole a cruller on the way out.

The air tore in the little vestibule where they had the coat rack. Angus could hear Apa swear and then yell, “Stall! Stall! Stall!”

Good thing the sauces were done. Angus hopped down from his stool and hung up his apron. “Good evening, sir. Miss. Apa’s still getting his look finalised, and will be with us in a moment. May I hang your cloaks?”

The girl trailing behind Kravitz would easily stand head and shoulders above Lulu, who had inches over Angus despite assorted medicines and health regimes over the years, but that was not the surprising reveal. This half-elven girl had almost identical patterns of vitiligo to himself and Apa.

“We can make them vanish at will,” she said, demonstrating.

“Stella, this is Angus Taakoson.”

“I remember you from  _ Taako’s Delights,” _ he said, offering his hand. “Were you on business?”

“More of a training mission,” she said, taking his hand and shaking it. “I was stopping by to peek in on my mortal family. It’s allowed.”

Kravitz cleared his throat in a way that made Stella bite her lip.

“You have family in Rockport?” Angus was fascinated. “I didn’t know Reapers could have families.”   


“The word is ‘had’, now,” Stella corrected.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” And a regrettable platitude fell out of his mouth. “I’m sure they’re in a better place.”

Stella appeared to consider this. “Yes. I’m certain they are.”

Kravitz cleared his throat again. “Is Taako worried about his look? I thought this was an informal occasion.”

“Oh, it can take ages for Apa to get an informal look just right,” said Angus.

“He shouldn’t worry. I’m positive whatever look he chooses will be out… of…”

Angus looked. Apa was making an Entrance.

Apa had once boasted that he was the master of the five-minute makeover, and he must have applied that in order to get changed and made up so quickly. Including a hairstyle that only  _ looked _ like it must have taken a team of skilled experts to accomplish.

The outfit was one of Apa’s Thrift Finds, carefully altered and adjusted to both sparkle at the slightest motion and look like it could all fall off if the circumstances were just right.

“Hello,” said Apa.

“Whoah,” said Stella.

Kravitz just stood there, mouth agape and slowly beginning to smile. It was as if someone had hit him with Slow Movement and Petrify at the same time.

Apa smiled in that way he did when he knew he was winning.

Stella elbowed Kravitz and said, “Remember to breathe.”

Which sufficed to startle him back into reality. “Out of this world,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Apa. “You’re looking pretty astronomical, yourself.” He finally found some attention to pay to Stella. “And this must be your…” he trailed off, noticing the vitiligo pattern. “Daughter?”

“Daughter, ward, apprentice, it’s complicated.” Stella said. “It’s going to get a lot more complicated after dessert. Kravitz made me promise to keep the big stuff until then.”

“Yes,” said Kravitz, rather hurriedly. “All questions will be answered then. Let’s all get to know each other before we drop all the angst bombs.”

“Well, let’s start with… what’s your favourite meal?” Apa breezed. “I’m pretty sure I cooked everything. Well. Everything mainstream. Well. The kind of stuff that you can get any old where.”

“I’m positive that  _ your _ cooking can’t be obtained just anywhere,” said Kravitz.

Stella looked Angus in the eye and pretended to vomit. Angus had to roll a will save to not giggle.

Parental figures could be gross, sometimes.

Fortunately for both their stomachs, Kravitz got into the technical details about how Reapers didn’t need to eat, but could when they wanted to. They could form whatever parts of a physical body when they wanted to. But getting that body killed or destroyed was a pain in the butt to replace.

Having the Raven Queen weave their bodies all over again from pure firmament took a very long time.

By the time he was done explaining all that, Apa had plated samples of hogget and smaller examples of the vegetables he had on offer. Kravitz, peeking into the kitchen, laughed around, “Taako, you didn’t have to cook  _ everything.” _

“You know me, homie. I bake when I’m stressed.”

Angus used the distraction to filch one of the smaller cookies and present it to Stella. “This is a cookie. They’re all good, but this one was one of Apa’s best sellers in the restaurant days.”

Stella took a nibble. “Mmm…” She took a bite. “Is all food like this?”

“Not all of it’s sweet like that,” Angus admitted. “But this is my Apa’s cooking, so it’s all going to taste wonderful.” Angus decided not to say that Apa could make  _ Dire Slug _ appetising, lest Stella want to try some.

“Why do you call Taako ‘Apa’?”

“It’s a dialect of Elven for ‘parental figure’,” he said. “The reason for it… is… uhm. It’s dessert material, I think.”

* * *

 

Dinner went moderately well. Any meet-the-family occasion had good reason to be stilted and awkward and mildly embarrassing. A little wine helped Taako and Kravitz along and keeping things frank and factual helped the kids. Angus and Stella were bonding over how mortifyingly in love their respective parentals were being, and that was something. One small step forward.

Taako wanted this to work. To really work. The dating scene for single parents was fraught with pitfalls at the best of times. It had been literal years since he’d had adult companionship and his last one had been… unwelcome.

Taako was starting to dread dessert.

All  _ sorts _ of painful topics were going to come up with jelly and cake.

Kravitz had already discussed his cause of death - which had happened thousands of years ago. Stella had stated hers as pre-natal poisoning with the added peril of a detached placenta. “Mom re-wove my body so I’m how I was supposed to be,” she added.

Ango looked shocked and pale. “That could have--”

“I’m glad it didn’t,” said Taako. “Without you in my life… I dunno what I’d be doing.” And without further warning, he said, “I’m intersex, but identify as male. I… I actually gave birth to Ango.”

“And that’s why I use ‘Apa’ instead of ‘Papa’,” said Ango. “It’s more appropriate.”

Kravitz looked appropriately shocked and awed. “Well. I was going to ask where his mother was, but… I guess he’s right here.”

Taako had to giggle. “Thanks, gorgeous. I’d rather not talk about the other gene donor in this equation, though. It was… It was a bad scene.”

Stella took a deep breath. “You didn’t just have Angus, you had twins,” she blurted. “Surprise. I’m your daughter, back from the dead.”

Angus was gesturing at their matching marks. “So  _ that’s _ why we have matching vitiligo. I was thinking you might be a surprise relative and -wow- I was right in the wrong direction.”

Taako’s entire world… froze.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat.

His mouth moved to form the words, “I had twins?” but no sound came out.

Hot liquid stung his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.

The world started to haze into a tunnel.

“Love?” said Kravitz. He touched Taako’s arm. Light as a feather.

Breathe. Air.

Connect the dots.

Stella was re-woven as she should have been. Ango would be that tall if--

He’d have had  _ two _ children if--

If only--

“Oh baby,” he said. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I never knew…”

Stella rose from her seat and moved around the table to take his shaking hand. Patted it gently with the other. “It’s all right. People don’t tell the… parents… of twins when one dies at birth. They figure one baby is enough and just… quietly tidy everything else up.”   


“I saw Stella when she came to us,” said Kravitz. “Mortals… Mortals don’t deal with that sort of thing very well.”

Breathe. Stay breathing. Stay conscious. This was no time to faint. It… it would disturb the kids.  _ His _ kids. Put the panic and the sorrow and the retroactive loss in a sack for now. Deal with it logically. “I was… an acolyte of Oghma for a while. I saw… I saw what can happen when…” Don’t think about those very disturbing images, when a tiny body, already dead, cannibalises what is there to keep building the important parts. His stomach roiled and rebelled anyway. “Did I mess you up a lot?”

_ “You _ didn’t mess me up. The idiot that poisoned you messed me up. He’s the one that made the mistakes. Not you.”

“I’m still sorry as hell that it happened.”

Taako dried his face. His daughter may be dead, but she had a life of sorts, and a family full of love and… If that wasn’t the most messed-up collection of words to flow through his noggin, then he would have to get proof.

“Is it… to early to ask?” Stella was suddenly nervous. “Can I call you ‘Apa’?”

Reflex made him scoop her into his arms. Hold her tight and breathe in her scent and -gods- she even  _ smelled _ like his sweet baby angel. “It’s almost so very too late,” he choked out. “You’re welcome to call me ‘Apa’. Any time.” He was a blubbering mess for half an hour. Crying into Stella’s shoulder. Crying into Kravitz’ shoulder. Sobbing into Ango’s shoulder.

“Surprise twins,” he finally managed, once he was cried out. “I fucking hate that trope.” Deep breath. Let out all the negativity.

Kravitz was on his right, one arm around Taako’s shoulder. Stella was on his left, and Ango was on his lap. All had one arm or more around his bod.

He felt like all the tears had been wrung out of him like water wrung out of a shirt by some cosmic washerwoman. As a direct result, he was left weak and limp. Taako summoned the strength to look up at Kravitz. “Of course you realise,” he said, voice a little hoarse, “we simply  _ have _ to get married, now.”

“We do?” Kravitz boggled. “Why?”

“We have babies together,” he said. And enjoyed the spectacle as the goof made Kravitz crack a smile.

He had such a wonderful smile. It made Taako want to watch it all day. When he didn’t want to get lost in the feel of those delicious ebony lips. He wanted to know what it was like to wake up next to someone who actually wanted him. As a life companion, snuggle buddy, bed-mate, help-meet or more. Taako had had a literal lifetime of bad decisions when it came to companionship. People who made him afraid just by the way they were breathing. People who were smothering. People who were controlling. People who were more concerned with their next dose of bliss. People who lied. People who cheated. People who stole what little he had. People who abandoned him. And one who had left… a lasting memory.

Kravitz wasn’t like a single one of those regrettable couplings. He cared. He worried. He had a… life… if you could call it that. Something beyond Taako and his horseshit. He was willing to call Taako  _ out _ on his horseshit and make it happen without making Taako feel horrible about it.

For the first time in forever, Taako wanted to do  _ right _ by another person that wasn’t Ango. He could actually think forward and consider what Kravitz liked or disliked without the threat of imminent doom hanging over him if he fucked it up.

“I think we should definitely do a few more dates, though,” said Kravitz. “Take it slow. Make sure we know what we’re getting into.”

“Wasn’t that what  _ this _ date was for?”

“Well. Ye-e-es… but… I want to savour the experience of sharing the world with you, Taako. You and your son.”

That was exactly what Taako wanted. That and those lips. Taako moved his face closer and revelled in the fact that there was no resistance.

And then he was lost in a kiss.


	17. Chapter 17

Angus shuffled himself out of their way, gently urging Stella to one side. Urging his sister to one side.

He had a sister!

Part of him was still reeling at that knowledge. The fact that Apa had taken her into his heart in a second was a powerful thing. Angus was going to take a while longer to get used to the concept. He hadn’t known Stella since he was a child. He hadn’t known Stella from birth, like a twin sibling should.

“They’re going to be like this for a while,” he said. And inside his heart, a little part of him was screaming,  _ Yes! I finally get to learn what a two-parent household is like! _ He could tell that Apa loved Kravitz and Kravitz loved him back. But they were also both hurt from past encounters and nervous and… well… not  _ that _ nervous. Obviously.

But they  _ were _ more than a little scared of what could go wrong. After all, they had both experienced enough of things going wrong to be wary this time. Even though it was blatantly obvious to even a casual observer that they fit together like savoury and sweet, they would probably drag things out for quite some time.

“So… we just sit here?” Stella whispered back.

“No. I think we should go somewhere else. Hey. Uh. I like Caleb Cleveland. It’s a book series. We could… read the best one together?”

“Sounds better than watching our parents kissing,” Stella allowed. She followed his lead all the way up to his bedroom. Which was the complete opposite of Apa’s. Angus liked things neat. Apa preferred to display everything he owned on the furniture and floor. A condition that had only got worse now that he could afford to have more stuff.

Angus got out the fourth book in the series.  _ Caleb Cleveland and the Furious Five. _ “This is the best one to start with,” he said.

“Why not start at the first one?” Stella asked.

“It took L. L. Lyre a little while to get into the stride of things. This one has all the -uh-  _ feel _ of the rest of the series.” He opened the book and began to read. “Most crimes of a serious nature happened in the middle of the night. These were the first that Caleb had heard of occurring in the middle of the day.”

“When Kravitz reads, he does voices,” Stella interrupted.

“Really? What’s that like?”

“Well. How does it sound when you read inside your head? Like that, only more.” Stella thought about this for a while. “You read Caleb’s parts ‘cause you’re a kid and he’s a kid, and I’ll do some voices for the rest of the stuff. We’ll take all the non-speaking parts in turns.”

“Sounds like fun. And maybe later on, I can try a few voices.”

“Let’s go.”

It took them roughly half an hour to send each other into giggling fits. A further half an hour to get overly dramatic in their reading and ten minutes after that to notice that both their parental figures were watching them.

Hand in hand, standing in the doorway, and smiling like soppy-in-love doofuses.

Angus, wearing one of Apa’s least-favourite hats because he was temporarily playing a wizard, coughed and straightened himself up. Stella, who had stuck her legs through the arms of a coat to play a fat merchant, dropped the garment and attempted to look like she hadn’t been playing at being silly. She rolled a one.

“Glad to see you kids getting along,” said Apa. “But it’s bedtime for Ango, and time for Krav and Star to go home.”

Nicknames! They were in!

“Next week?” Angus begged. “Can we have a day next week? There’s a spring festival in Neverwinter and I’m tall enough to go on most of the rides, and we can all have fun like a family!”

“Please?” said Stella. “It’ll be so cool to see what the mortals do.”

Kravitz couldn’t stop smiling. “Well. If Taako doesn’t get any surprise missions before next week.”

“Sure,” said Apa. He had a redness in his cheeks that Angus had never seen before. “I’d love a family day.”

The only question now was when Apa and Kravitz were going to admit it all and get married.

Angus could see it clear as day, and so could Stella if her grin was any indicator. They were crazy about each other already. It would only get worse -or better, depending on your perspective- as time went by. Angus had seen Uncle Magnus and Aunt Julia deep in married teamwork or just casually brushing each other as they passed, or the way they leaned together and read to Lulu or just held her in four arms as they watched some play or moving scroll together. Wouldn’t it be nice to have that in his own place? To have two parents who loved him and helped each other and…

He couldn’t tell this to Apa. Not yet. Apa always expected the worst to happen. For something to snatch away any hint of achieving happiness. For something to steal his chances of settling down and making good.

And, to be fair, he had a point. He had a travelling show and the partner that got involved… well… wasn’t the nicest person. He had a restaurant and a rich skeezbag ruined it and the city he’d made a home in, forever. He had a  _ different _ restaurant and some idiot with a magic monocle had ruined everything beyond Apa’s ability to recover.

This latest job was clearly temporary and, though it promised good things, it was doomed to end very soon.

Therefore it was no shock to posit that Apa might fear this relationship ending very soon indeed.

Just as soon as the last Grand Relic got retrieved.

The next one would tell everything.

* * *

 

_ I don’t want to pull the trigger on an entire civilisation, _ Lup had said it, once upon a reality. Lucretia could sympathise entirely. In fact, those words were why she had done all of this. Why she had to move ahead now, before the Hunger came.

One more left.

She drove the boys hard, though Taako insisted on one day off per week. He had… he had a  _ boyfriend. _ He had made bonds here.

Of course he would. He didn’t remember the hundred years of futility and coming up with only six others that he could rely on.

He had a child.

Magnus had a child.

It was easier to think of it that way, than the truth that her eyes delivered to her. That Magnus and Taako had made a child together.

Merle… well Merle had been a shock.

They were called  _ Tres Horny Boys _ for a reason. Of  _ course _ they had families now.

How would she tell them, if they had to leave?

She couldn’t let that happen. She  _ had _ to use her plan and win. There was no other option. This had to work. She had to protect this plane from the Hunger.

There was just one more relic left. The worst one of the seven. Worst because of the beings that had taken it as their own, and the sick game they used it for.

A sick game she would have to throw three of her best friends into.

“Davenport.”

He almost startled the life out of her. He had cream of chicken soup with alphabet noodles, and a perfect hot chocolate. Her favourite comfort foods. She’d stolen all his words but one, and he  _ still _ took care of her.

This  _ had _ to work.

“Thank you, Davenport.” She moved the tray onto her desk. Eclipsing the paperwork for the time it would take to eat and drink.

“Davenport,” he said soothingly.

“I know you didn’t approve from the beginning. This is no time for I-told-you-so’s. None of you would have approved. She didn’t want us ruining this world just to save it.”

“Davenport.”

She sighed. “I just… I don’t see any other way. It has to happen this way. It has to work. It has to. I looked at all the other alternatives. All of them.”

He guided her hand to the spoon. “Davenport.”

_ Yes, dad, I’m eating. _ Lucretia made herself eat. She knew damn well that she never thought properly on an empty stomach.

She’d paid in years for this to work. She’d paid in skills and memories and precious things. She’d paid in tears and mourning and the lives of others. She’d paid in secrets given to the Millers, in technology that this world should not have yet. She’d paid in so much time fretting and worrying and striving…

And now it was crunch time.

She finished her soup. Drank her hot chocolate. Both of them failed to comfort her.

“Tomorrow. I have to send them off tomorrow. Time’s running out and I don’t know if I can…”

He patted her hand. “Davenport.”

“I have to,” she said. “I have to do this.” Her mantra ran on rails around her head.  _ This has to work. This has to work. This has to work… _

* * *

 

Stella shot straight upwards when the inky black attacked. It was made of grasping arms and snatching jaws and looked like tar made out of opal, and it was terrifying. So she flew straight upwards without a thought to her siblings or Kravitz or the Raven Queen or anyone.

Just herself.

And, far above the sea of souls, she watched in horror as all the winking lights of the recently dead faded and fell to the rising tide of muck.

She was so terrified that she’d reverted to a floating, bony torso in a vague, robe-like cloud of darkness.

There was no-one else. Nothing she could do. No-one left…

The muck had got in. Was still getting in.

That meant she could get out.

All she had to do was focus. Concentrate. Summon her spirit blade and think of where she needed to be.

She thought of her brother.

The air tore.

She was the last Reaper to leave the Astral Plane before the Hunger came.

The rift did not close behind her as it should have. She had to turn around and will it shut.

Someone screamed. A hammer flew through her incorporeal head.

Angus shouted, “No! Don’t hurt my sister!”

Stella whirled with her weapon drawn to see Angus between herself and a woman so large and muscular that she could have been part Orc. She was shielding a small girl with her muscular arms. A small girl with an almost familiar face.

Stella said, “Sorry. This happens to my body when I’m frightened. Give me a moment.” It took some effort and concentration, but she formed her physical self. It was another fight to make herself dismiss her weapon.

The small girl gaped at the sight. She was just a little smaller than Angus -his treatments were working at last- and looked so very much like him it was astonishing that he hadn’t said he had  _ another _ sister. But this girl was also one hundred percent human. This  _ had _ to be Lucinda. Lulu for short.

“COOL!” Lulu yawped. “Can ya go through walls? Can ya shapeshift? Can ya turn into a golem? Were those  _ daggers? _ Mama only lets me throw hammers at targets. Have you killed anyone?”

“Lulu, let her breathe,” Angus chided.

The only adult in the room was very quiet, and showing symptoms of shock.

“She doesn’t need to breathe, she’s dead.”

“She might be dead, but she still needs time to answer questions, doofus.”

“Nuh-uh, reapers can do anything, dingus. You said.”

“Well she can’t answer everything at once, dummins!”

Stella said, “My home is gone.” Not yelling. Not loud at all. Just a quiet statement of fact that made her eyes wet and made herself feel very small and the world feel too large to fit.

The big woman, Julia, it must be, patted Lulu on the head and said, “Lulu, corner.” Angus got a similar pat and, “Angus, other corner. You can both come out when you’re willing to talk things through like civilised beings.”

She scooped up a fluffy blanket and laid it gently around Stella’s shoulders. “I won’t lie and tell you everything’s okay. We know it isn’t. This is a rough patch. We have warm soup and hot tea and I’m here for hugs if you need them.”

Stella fell into her embrace and bawled like a baby. This was the first time in her life that she had faced a major uncertainty with no possibility of recovery in sight. She was scared. She felt alone. Her guardian was gone. Her home was gone. Her Goddess… she couldn’t feel the presence of the Raven Queen!

All of her ‘always’es had turned into ‘not any more’s.

It was devastating.

But she had warm arms around her and a soft body to press herself into. And somewhere in the middle of her misery, Angus had come to also wrap his arms around her and he summoned a gentle purr that helped remind her that she was not alone.

Stella was aware of the presence of Lulu, stroking her hair and running an occasional finger along her pointed ears.

It had once seemed like she would always be crying. From now until the end of the world.

Not any more.

She could breathe without wanting to weep, now. Without wanting to be sick. She let herself be lax and think nothing for an unmeasurable pace of time. Let herself absorb the truth that she was not as alone as she thought she was.

“...’nk you,” she managed.

“Time for warm soup and hot tea?” Julia asked.

Her voice was a ghost. Rough and soft at the same time. “...’s please.”

Lulu took her hand. Lead her around to the Burnsides family table. “Leaving home is always rough, the first time,” she said. “I was five when I watched my hometown die.”

“I missed most of it,” said Angus. “I was on the road with Apa. When we came back, it was like walking into a different dimension. Where everything looks the same, but the people and everything about them are so different, it’s shocking.”

“It was a slow slide, for us,” said Lulu. “Little things. Tiny adjustments. Like picking the peas out of the pods, one at a time. Sooner or later, there’s only empty shells left.”

“It looked like tar,” said Stella. She risked a sip of soup. Warm. Comforting. Taako -her Apa- had had some influence here. It tasted like warm hugs. “It moved like tar. And it had arms and jaws and… there were lights inside it like a black opal… I ran away. I ran away and I let it come in and I didn’t even try to stop it, I was so scared...”

“Could you have stopped it?” asked Julia. “Do you know?”

Rationality peeked out from its former hiding space. “I don’t have all my Reaper powers yet. And I saw…” her voice faltered. “I saw a dozen full Reapers go and fight it and…” The jaws bit them. The claws snatched them down. “They fought and they lost.”

“Then you were smart to run. You were smart to go looking for someone who could help,” said Julia. “Because now? Now  _ we _ know. We can tell others. Come up with a plan. We can prepare.” She rose from the table and pulled aside a curtain that covered an upward-facing window. Revealing some clouds that were not clouds at all. They were pitch black, with ribbons of light in the depths. “Because I think what you saw is coming here.”

Lulu said, “It’s time to switch to real hammers, isn’t it, Mama?”

In an unspoken answer, Julia picked up a large, five-pound block of metal on a stick and weighed it in her hands with a thoughtful expression. Angus had once told Stella that his -their- Aunt Julia could nail a Dire Wolf square in the forehead at forty yards. Watching her now, Stella could believe it.

Stella felt safer already.


	18. Chapter 18

Taako fought against the Astral Plane rejecting his living soul. He had already pushed Mango into the grasp of one of those plantlike arms, but there was one more he had to save. Love for the man trapped in tar. Fury against whatever it was he was fighting. An absolute, soul-borne  _ need _ for things to just work out for Taako. Just  _ once. _ For a fucking  _ change. _ All spurred him onwards.

Closer.

Deeper into the realm of the dead.

Nearer.

So close to Kravitz that he could  _ almost _ touch him.

Kravitz, seeing Taako, struggled further up out of it. Fought. Reached out one hand.

Once, in Taako’s checkered past, he had tagged along with a circus. Most of the details were lost to time, but since he was small and light, they taught him a few tricks on the flying trapeze. He had never missed a catch.

He didn’t miss this one now.

Taako stopped fighting the Astral Plane’s rejection. Allowed Merle’s spirit hands to drag him backwards out of there. Dragging Krav with him.

Once he was out, into the Prime material, he was beautiful.

He wove himself a vengeful angelic form out of their fucking black smoke and, eyes red with rage, summoned his scythe and descended like the wrath of the gods towards Edward and Lydia.

“BY ORDER OF THE RAVEN QUEEN!”

The scythe swept through them both.

Wonderland fell.

Magnus’ body remained inert. 

It was one of the dummies who moved and spoke like him.

Taako was still half out of it, and watched in stunned amazement as Kravitz turned his hand skeletal and just… pulled Mango out of the mannequin and shoved him into his bod.

“Merle! Spare the Dying! Now!”

And Merle actually cast one of his few competent spells. As Mango breathed again.

“Hey, I thought you were collecting the bounty on our asses,” the lunk complained.

Krav let the smoke go, and reformed his usual beautiful self. Normally? Taako would have complained about the cold touch of death, but not this time. Holding on to and being held by his boyfriend was just the fucking best.

And he insisted on warming up his face so they could kiss. Which was equal parts adorkable and chivalrous and Taako wanted a life with him  _ so much _ that it nearly hurt. But he knew, without a doubt, that nothing good ever stayed.

Best to enjoy what he had while he had it.

Krav broke the kiss before things got too hot. “One more bit o’ business, love,” he said in his work accent. “Sildar Hallwinter, I saw you fightin’  _ for _ my friends. That’s why I’m grantin’ you a temporary reprieve. Come out of hidin’ and explain yerself.”

A skeletal figure in a red robe coalesced out of seemingly nothing. Just… hovering there.

Merle flinched towards his war hammer.

“No,” said Mango. “I don’t know how to explain it, but… I’m pretty sure he’s on our side.”

Those empty eye sockets were staring at the Umbrastaff, which was vacuuming up all the spare black smoke it could get. And studiously avoiding the lich. The biggest source of arcane energy in the immediate area.

“I- I know. I violated the rules of life and d-death,” said the red robe. “I did it b-because I was desperate. We were desperate. I did it to save the world. And possibly gur zhygvirefr.”

“Did he have a hair stuck in his throat, or...?” wondered Merle.

“And possibly what now?” said Mango.

“I heard him clear as day,” said Krav. “He said, gur zhygvirefr.”

Taako said, “Sorry, babe. Same static.” And then his brain caught up with his mouth.

_ Same static. _

He looked to Mango, who said, “Egg babe. The voidfish’s baby is being used to… keep secrets.”

“Deadly secrets,” agreed the red robe. “Ones that could harm the entire world if they’re kept for much longer. I literally can’t tell you now. We have to get into the Bureau base. Lucretia’s put up some ward against liches, so I can’t go with you. Not like this.”

“You expect us to remember a whole bunch of complicated instructions all the way to the fucking moon?”

“Taako, your memory’s been shot full of so many holes, I’m amazed you can remember where your ass is,” he said. But he said it in such a familiar way that it almost seemed like he was family. “We don’t have a lot of time. It’s nearly here. Grab the bell and let’s go.”

Taako used Mage Hand to pluck it from the ashes, and had to use the Umbrastaff as a cane just so he could stand and walk.

Ango called. “Sir? Sir, are you there?”

“Still kickin’, baby. Apa’s… okay.”

“It’s fun times up here, sir.”

Chills.

Things were breaking bad.

“You and the Burnsides ready to get down?” he asked. He and Mango had worked out this kind of code with Julia and the kids. Phrases and keywords that sounded innocent to a casual ear, but weren’t that innocent.

“Oh yes, sir. We sent out party invitations to the whole place. And my sister’s getting ready to dance. We’re  _ all _ getting ready to dance.”

“Stella must have warned them about that… stuff,” whispered Krav.

“Get all the party favours lined up,” said Taako. “I’ll be up there as soon as I can, but Apa’s got interesting business goin’ on. Dig?”

“Oh, it’s dug, sir.”

The red robe insisted that the Stones be destroyed. He didn’t trust the Director and they all knew she could listen in to their shenanigans via the Stones.

It was a day and a half to a cave so very close to Wave Echo Cave near Phandalin, where a winding passage took them to a lair where someone had kept a wall of insanity and an eerie tube full of green goo and a humanoid body.

Taako only understood half of the wall of madness, the other half… well. It was proof that there was another voidfish out there. The way his eyes skidded over a portrait pinned to the corkboard. The way some words looked like incomprehensible blurs.

_ The same way that two pages in his copy of Uncle John’s Elven Bathroom Reader had remained unreadable. _

There were things he couldn’t comprehend. Thoughts he couldn’t approach. Conclusions he couldn’t reach. For all that he tried to approach it from different angles, he couldn’t get there.

It was like he knew something, like an elusive next word in a sentence, but his mind couldn’t find it.

Something important had been taken away. Something big and important and still… incomprehensible.

“When I get outta here, I’m gonna be naked as a jay bird. Merle. Could you do me a solid and get my clothes out of that chest there?”

Something about that voice. Something about the robe. Something about the patch of colour on his chest that matched the patches that had mysteriously turned up, last candlenights. With the script that he could not read.

Something that felt like  _ home. _

Merle started laughing at something he found in the chest. Nothing more important than a pair of pants.

Sturdy.

Denim.

And blue.

“What the absolute fuck?” said Krav.

Barry Bluejeans was back.

* * *

 

It was, Magnus had to admit, a wild ride. Getting to the moon. Finding Fisher’s baby. Re-uniting with his family and trying to fight a foe none of them could see. They really needed to end the obfuscation effect of Fisher’s memory-altering spell. This was just stage one. Re-unite parent and child.

Magnus could see the weird storm clouds. He could see that Kravitz and Stella both had no trouble hitting the invisible forces they were facing. There was falling goo from the invisible soldiers that they hit, and a few from the lucky hits the others got in. But other than that, they just couldn’t see what they were fighting against.

Julia was great at hitting invisible soldiers. Lulu was simply a whirling dervish with a one-pound hammer in each hand.

She got more than a few hits in on the way. Good girl! He was so proud of her.

Meanwhile, he was worrying a little about how to break it to Julia that he used to have a friends-with-benefits relationship with Taako. It was before he met her and -oh shit-  _ now _ he knew why Angus and Lulu and Stella all looked alike.

Fuck.

He owed Taako payments on a paternity suit. Two, if one counted Stella.

Sazed wasn’t guilty of fathering Taako’s kids, but that didn’t stop him from being a rapist, poisoning asshole. And he was dead anyway. No coming back from that.

Fisher wasn’t in good shape.

Work out this problem. The problem of the kids he’d fathered could wait until they won the war. The problem now was how to help Fisher.

They were glad to be re-united, he could tell, but Fisher wouldn’t easily recover from what the invisible things had done to him.

“I’m sorry I forgot you, buddy. If there’s anything you need…”

One scarred tendril reached out and jostled Johann’s body. Then it poked Johann’s desk where he kept all his work.

Magnus found Johann’s last masterpiece, ink not even dry yet, which he had named  _ March of the Forgotten. _ “I’ll make sure they don’t forget you.”

He played for them. As best he could.

And, as he remembered from his century of running, gave the written sheet music to Fisher.

There was a green light, and a blue light. And the whole of their story played through his head once more.

And then Julia slapped him in the cheek.

“Okay,” he said. “I deserved that. I was trying to think of a way to break it to you. Honest.”

She had that face that he loved. The one that said she didn’t know whether to kiss him or kick him. “If we already weren’t helping him looking after that boy, we would owe him  _ so _ much.”

* * *

 

“Not yet,” said Lucretia. “Please, please, please, I’m begging you all. We’ve been through so much, we’ve given up so much to make this work. I am begging you, please let me do this, please let me put up the barrier.”

“Ma’am?” said Angus. “Just asking, but… have you heard of the Sunk Cost Fallacy?”

“Little man… you were born here. You… you belong to this world. If we cut and run you--” He couldn’t think it. He couldn’t say it. Not because of Fisher and Junior, but because the mere concept of the thought tore his heart in two. Lucretia knew this. She knew all of it, because she knew Taako. Family was the most important thing in his world. Now he had Lup back, and the memory of her, too. He would not surrender his family.

“Lucretia, if that spell goes off, you’re gonna sever every bond this world’s got. This plane would be doomed,” Barry argued. He turned towards the rest of the group an said, “We’ve got two choices, gang. We stay and Lucretia’s barrier cuts this world off from the rest of existence, or we run. And we try again next cycle. That’s it. Two choices, it’s time to decide.”

And now that his memory was whole, now that his life was whole, Lucretia got to see something she hadn’t seen in nearly fourteen long, long years. She got to see Taako have a revelation.

“Uhm. There’s a third option.”

Something floated out of Merle’s pocket. A single crystal. Lucretia recognised it from the field reports. A prophecy crystal from Paloma’s. The last one she had.

It shattered into billions of pieces.

They all saw…

_ Taako, cooking up a feast in a fancy kitchen. And Lup sitting there, back in her body. And the two of them laughing about a joke that none can quite hear. And Magnus, sitting under a tree at a park, and saw Angus throw a frisbee to a big golden retriever. And Stella running along, laughing. They’re almost the same height in this vision. Somewhere in the field of his vision, Lulu was squealing and playing with a massive Fantasy Russian Bear Dog. Julia’s hand in his. Happy together. _ __   
_ And Merle, in ocean, splashing up out of it, and holding Mookie under one of his arms. And Mavis is watching and laughing from the beach, and Merle just picks Mookie up and launches him into the water as he cackles the whole way. _ _   
_ __ And Carey and Killian are in this big cabin on a mountainside, curled up on a couch, both reading the same book. And Lucretia’s there, and she’s overseeing a crew of workers who are building this massive library in the heart of a thriving rebuilt Neverwinter.

“That one,” said Magnus. “I want that one, please.”

“What does it mean?” Lucretia asked.

Merle said, “It means there  _ is _ a happy ending, we just gotta get to it.”

Taako, still in the thrall of the vision, added, “We could close ourselves off, and we could run. There’s a third option though. Lucretia, your spell, could it... keep the Hunger bound? Could it… cut the Hunger off?”

This was why he was in the IPRE in the first place. Why he had a place on the Starblaster. Not for his cooking, which was astounding. Not for his intuitive spellwork, which was exemplary. But for his ability to fucking  _ wreck _ whatever plans that fate, the gods, or the villain of the week had to destroy their asses. This was Taako at his best. Cutting through the machinations of evil on a straight line between him and success.

She was a scribe. A bard of sorts. Words and the magic they wove were her meat and milk. A thousand ways to describe what he’d just done flew out of her reach and all she could say was, “Huh.”

Barry was never as loquacious. His, “Huh,” was right in character.

Lup, comfortably back in his orbit, said, “Huh,” in a way that communicated that she could still be surprised by her brother’s genius.

“If only we had some kind of vessel that could travel between planes— oooohhhh…” said Merle.

Smiles started to bloom on all their faces. Especially their Captain. Back from oblivion.


	19. An Epilogue of Sorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Offensensitivity warning: It's over!

The war was over. They’d won. The world was halfway ruined, and there was a lot of wreckage to clean up, but they were alive. Reapers from all over the Astral Plane were sweeping up lost or escaped souls.

He should be among them. Teaching Stella her work. But he could not make himself leave this grassy knoll, or Taako’s side. They just leaned against each other and watched the clouds roam across the sky, or the people below, sorting through the debris left over for anything useful.

Kravitz took a deep breath. “You realise we’re going to have to talk about the fact that your sister’s a lich, right?”

“Oh yeah, I assumed.” Now it was his turn to take a deep breath. “I should’a told you when we woke up. Uh. I’ve been… I’ve been hiding a terrible loss…” There was a shimmer, and Taako’s usual beauty evaporated like smoke. “So, I just wanted to be honest. I’m— I didn’t wanna catfish you or anything.” His hair was limper. Less vibrant. His features only slightly less striking. His lips were less full. “This is Taako today, um, I had a bad run in while I was saving the world again, and this is what I really look like. And I just wanted you to know that in case it changes anything for you, personally. I thought you should know, now.”

Lup, watching nearby, gave a soft gasp. “Oh, Taako… No…”

Kravitz knew from the story that they had once been completely identical. He knew how heartbreaking this must be for them. This new version of Taako was no different to Kravitz’ heart. This was still the amazing wizard chef and foul-mouthed bon vivant that Kravitz had fallen in love with. “Taako, I… was crazy about you, _before_ some weird light told me a story about your one hundred year journey through existence where you were fighting for a century to save the world,” he said, cupping that gorgeous face in his hands. “I love you, Taako, and at this point, I think that everyone in reality is going to love you after hearing your story, and… nothing’s gonna change that.”

His lips were still sweet. His embrace was still powerful and loving.

Somewhere on the edge of awareness, his sister/daughter Stella said, “Gross. Are they gonna be like that all the time?”

Angus said, “I think so,” but he said it in a happy way.

Lup said, “Well, at least they’re not pining for each other for fifty years. Guess that proves my dumb baby brother isn’t that dumb after all.”

Taako broke the kiss long enough to say, “Guess that means I can get away with calling you my stupid sister, huh?”

Lup considered this. “I’ll let you get away with it,” she said.

“Excellent.”

“Once.”

* * *

 

It took eight months to grow a new human body from a phial of blood. It took ten to grow a new elven body from a decade-old kiss on a piece of paper. But it was the final days of that stretch of time that concerned Lup.

She brought it up with Istus when she was visiting the Raven Queen.

“Uhm. Listen. So. You know about the whole new body deal and that, but… I was pregnant when I died and I didn’t know and… Taako and I… we always end up doing things together and--” She could do this. She could bull through it all. “Is Taako gonna have to get pregnant again ‘cause I know he hated it the last time and it didn’t work out that well for him and I’m worried about it because Barry an’ I wanted kids for so long and I don’t want to bring bad vibes onto my brother, he’s been through more than enough and--”

“Peace,” said Istus. “All that was necessary was that you conceived at the same time. At the time. You will regain your lost threads with your new body, and they will stay.”

Lup was so happy that she burst out in fireworks. All this good news everywhere had been chaos on her already chaotic magic.

Weddings all over the place. Renewal of vows in the case of Magnuts. Rebuilding and new starts and…

“Shit. Barold and I have to get married.” She would definitely have a nerve wearing white. Knowing Barry as she did, he would turn up to the ceremony in a denim suit. She could see it so clearly. Him with his dad bod and that mullet, in all denim and her… Taako would _insist_ that she wear a kick-ass dress to make up for Barold’s ‘appalling lack of style’.

He and her boss had decided to both wear kick-ass dresses down the aisle. Krav in white and Koko in shades of jet that sparkled like a galaxy. And both their kids helping with the ceremony. They looked fucking killer.

And then there was the fact that, now Barold was a Reaper, his death wouldn’t mean their time together would end so soon. He could slip softly from the mortal coil and turn up the next day in re-woven flesh as if nothing had happened.

Lup felt like if anything else great came to pass, she would fucking explode.

So it was a mercy that two more days passed before Taako called her Stone with the news.

“I found it,” he said without any kind of preamble.

“Your sanity? A sense of self-preservation?” she teased. “The perfect set of heels? What?”

A shaky breath. “I found Grampa Tostaada’s farm.”

She didn’t even remember opening a portal. She just blinked, and she was there.

It wasn’t exactly as she remembered it. Lightning had struck the main tree at some point and the new branches were growing wild.

The whole place was growing wild.

Descendants of Tostaada’s riding deer grazed the land, as did wild versions of the cattle he once kept. Leaf litter and animal nests filled the surviving halls and rooms. Thieves had made off with anything worth half a damn, and there was evidence that some squatters had used any remaining furniture as firewood.

“I know. It’s a fixer-upper. Gonna have to get a plant-shaper in to fix up those wild branches.”

“Not Merle,” said Lup reflexively.

Taako scoffed. “Fuck yeah. ‘Not Merle’ ought to be the fucking default on the request forms. There’s room enough in this lot to house fifteen fucking families even _without_ a restoration. Which I certainly am fucking doing. So. If ya wanna. There’s… There’s room for your little family.”

She glared at him. “You knew?”

“I can put things together, sis. I was pregnant before I met that asshole. I just never knew. So… you had to be pregnant. And you’re going to be again. It’s weird, but it works out. So you and your little family can be comfy here. And. Me and my growing family can be comfy here.”

“You’re not,” Lup gasped. “Koko, your last time was _hell_ and a bucket of rotten eggs…”

“This time, I got a loving family as backup. And no poisoners on the horizon. Ango and I… we saw some experts. Got the last traces of arsenic damage out of our bods. We’re… we’re good out here.” He cleared his throat. “Krav and I are trying for it, anyway. Istus is smirking a lot, so…” he shrugged. “Your twins won’t be alone either.”

Lup summoned a wind to blow the loose leaf litter and dust and cobwebs out of the interior, and grinned at her brother’s disgusted expression. “Gotta start somewhere, right?”

“I’m getting a _crew_ in…” He spat out a cobweb. “Geez, Lulu. You’d think you’d act better in your own gods-damned home.”

Angus, who had been playing in the old nooks and crannies, heard and gasped. “Apa! You said the H-word!”

“Yeah, I did,” said Taako. “I’m not running any more. This time, if something goes to shit? I’m fucking fighting it to the death.”

It took them damn near three hundred years, including a century of running from the Hunger, but they did it.

They had a _home._

 

END!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to absolutely everyone for the outpourings of love, rage, confusion, and keysmashes during the posting of this story. Y'all have added days to my life and at this rate, I should be immortal ;) :D
> 
> I'm still working on the next story, which uses kitten neglect as a hook for how Taako and Kravitz got their cats. I'm aiming for fluff and cuddles and I still got some nastiness in there for some reason. Go me. The curious, nosey, or just plain impatient can go visit my hub site internutter.org to see what I'm doing with my alleged life and check out all the details on how to help me have nice things.
> 
> ::Charity PSA voice:: For the price of a coffee a day, you can help creators like InterNutter have shiny, shiny objects with which to bedeck their nests...
> 
> Special extra thanks to the TAZ Fic Writers' Discord for keeping me honest and giving me a new technique for keeping track of my trigger warnings. I love all of you and am slightly ashamed for lurking on the chats. My only real excuse is that I give myself way too much work to do.


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